Consumption (2006)
“Layers and layers of grey Toronto skyline stretched out from the meeting-room windows, devoid of any contour or texture except asphalt, yellow haze, and carefully aligned rows of nursery-planted and regularly replaced trees. He had flown through here in 1967 when he had immigrated, and had spent a week staying in a boarding house on Bathurst Street. In each of the interviews he had had with immigration officials, he was advised to stay on in the city—it was where the future lay, the jobs, the c...areers. Robertson had looked at these men and wondered how they could be so daft about their own country. Toronto reminded him of nothing so much as the postwar cities of northern England: stolid and sad and restrained, bars emptying at eleven with relief. He couldn’t wait to get out of there.
It was a different place now, more different each time he returned. In the 1970s, the place had exploded with immigration. There was more colour and far less melancholy in the city, and the scent of rotis and curries and jerked goat hung in the air.MoreLess
It was a different place now, more different each time he returned. In the 1970s, the place had exploded with immigration. There was more colour and far less melancholy in the city, and the scent of rotis and curries and jerked goat hung in the air.MoreLess
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