A lovely book and a lewd song
Whatever gets you through, man
I had a very different newsletter planned for today. I had planned to share some exciting life news with you. But alas, the electrical and entrepreneurial gods have not smiled on me this week (or this year, really), and that will have to wait for another day. I suppose that’s just the way the cookie crumbles.
Because of the very rapid spread of the omicron variant, and all of the anxiety that comes with it, I thought I’d share just a short email with an out-of-body experience I had on the corner of Lansdowne and Dupont and a great (short!) book to read this holiday season between turkey and presents.
There are far too many ‘best of’ lists out in the world already, but I would love to know what your best reads or watches of 2021 were. What got you through this year? Reply and let me know!
Best thing I’ve heard lately
Walking to work an event at Propeller, I passed by the colourful corner of Lansdowne and Dupont. As I crossed the street, someone switched on a boombox and started playing this classic, which I had not heard since before I left Bella Coola. Safe to say, I never thought I’d hear this song blasted in Toronto.
And now it is my distinct pleasure to share this foul-mouthed and fiendish classic of my rural youth with you. You’re welcome.
The good stuff
In the course of her fifty-some-odd years, Kim Thúy has lived more fully than many of us could hope to in a hundred. Born into conflict in her home of Saigon, she and her family made their way as boat people to Quebec via refugee camps. She’s been an interpreter, an advisor, a translator, a restaurateur, a TV presenter and, most notably, an award-winning author.
Her books are beautiful and poetic; sparse yet powerful vignettes of Vietnam, Canada and the reverberations of Vietnam’s history of war and occupation that are still humming today.
Her latest novel, Em, feels distinct from her earlier books Ru and Vi in its reflective nature. A narrator pulls at different strings, following as the characters are pulled this way and that, stepping back only at the end to reveal the tapestry with loose ends comprised of Operation Babylift, the rainbows of Agent Orange, the legacy of French colonialism, and how it touched the lives of children in Vietnam; how it made them no longer children.
It is a beautifully told story that dances across the lives of many; a collection of facts and timelines and information that culminates in something deeply moving and heartfelt. Where Ru sticks a knife in your heart and twists it slowly for 152 pages, Em holds your hand and walks you through the years, helping you up to look through windows, providing context as your time travelling tour guide.
On a less literary note, I think it might be impossible not to fall a little bit in love with Kim Thúy, and be so grateful that she has made her home here. The vibrant Montréaler is a veritable tour de force with a lust for life that is unparalleled.
Canada’s private refugee sponsorship program (which was launched during the crisis surrounding the Vietnam war, and was the means by which many families came to Canada) has now been around for more than 40 years, and has helped people from all over the world seek refuge in Canada. Canadians have privately sponsored more than 327,000 refugees, accounting for more than half of the resettled refugee arrivals in Canada in the last decade.
While it doesn’t negate the need for refugee support at the federal level, it wasn’t until I lived overseas in a country with what are essentially refugee prison islands that I fully appreciated how important it is that we have this program, and how fortunate we are to have avenues for refugee families to come here.
Have a lovely holiday season my friends, and thanks for coming along the journey with me this year.