Book Recommendations

Piranesi
Written by Susanna Clarke

This book was recommended to me with the warning that it was different. It is, indeed, different … and very compelling. Once I picked it up, it was hard to put down. This work of fiction was a finalist for the World Fantasy Awards but is it that genre? I can’t say too much. The worlds within Piranesi are for you to figure out.

Favourite line: “They were all enamoured with the idea of progress and believed that whatever was new must be superior to what was old.”

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Pure Invention: How Japan’s Pop Culture Conquered the World
Written by Matt Alt

Japanese pop culture resonates with a lot of people around the world but I didn’t fully realize how deeply its influence reached. Pure Invention is a fascinating study on everything from Nintendo to Hello Kitty, Karaoke to Sony’s Walkman (Steve Jobs was so enamoured with the Japanese technology giant, he visited their headquarters when launching Apple with the hopes of mimicking their style). The connections the book makes to our world today and innovations we now take for granted is thought-provoking. This book is on my shortlist of favourites for 2021.

Favourite line: “A great many things we global citizens take for granted in our constantly connected digital lives were pioneered by schoolgirls on the streets of Tokyo.”

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On All Fronts: The Education of a Journalist
Written by Clarissa Ward

I became fascinated with Clarissa Ward after seeing her CNN footage during the fall of Kabul. Here was a woman, in the middle of an uprising in a country with new government that hates women, fearlessly putting herself out there to share what was happening and connect citizen’s stories to an international audience. I purchased her autobiography right away. This book is just the right mix of current world history, insight into the process of reporting it, and getting to know the author as a person.

Favourite line: We talked about my concern that the Syrian uprising was losing its original spirit, one I had seen so vividly in Damascus, because it had become so bloody.
”Nothing in the world is pure,” he said. “If you yearn for that, you’ll always be disappointed. I’m satisfied to catch glimpses of brilliance in the rubble.”
”Rubble’s not the only place to find those glimpses,” I replied.
”Nah, you’re right. But the contrast makes it brighter.”

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Bourdain: The Definitive Oral Biography
Written by Laurie Woolever

Anthony Bourdain was one of my favourite celebrities and I was saddened by his untimely death in 2018. He lived a life I—and many others—coveted, traveling the world while experiencing great conversation and great food. But sometimes things are not always what they seem and this book, through interviews with friends, family and colleagues, uncovers the many facets of a man we thought we knew. While reading, I was surprised at Tony’s lack of interpersonal interaction with those working behind-the-scenes on his shows (“it took about two years for Tony to remember my name”). Ultimately, this book is a cautionary tale about addiction in many different forms.

Favourite line: “It was like he pulled the curtain back—the sort of work it takes, the focus, style, intelligence, a big mental museum of experiences and drive to write a book.”

Gabbers

I’ve long since decided that I want to travel to the Arctic. The pandemic definitely threw a wrench into those plans but has also given me more time to plan (and dream). Churchill, a town 1,000km north of my hometown, is where I have my sights set. Known as the “gateway to the Arctic”, Churchill is internationally renowned for its wildlife including polar bears that wander through the town as part of their seasonal migration to Hudson Bay and beyond.

Last winter I binged Arctic Vets, a CBC program detailing rescue and conservation efforts at Assiniboine Park Conservancy. The Conservancy provides homes to rescued and rehabilitated animals that will not survive if released, while also granting the public an opportunity to learn about and be inspired to preserve the majestic creatures we share the planet with. While visiting recently, I had the opportunity to interact with harbour seals—and even became an honorary trainer of one!

Gabbers is a harbour seal born with a developmental disability that was rescued in British Columbia in 2015. Along with six other harbour seals that share the compound, he now acts as an ambassador for his species helping visitors understand firsthand the impacts of climate change on their natural environment.

The Journey to Churchill exhibit at Assiniboine Park Conservancy mimics actual sights in the northern Manitoba town, including signage warning of polar bears in the area (©Deborah Clague, 2021).

Learning how to train a seal at Assiniboine Park Conservancy (2021).

Lunch time, feeding Gabbers some fish. Gabbers was rescued in 2015 by the Marine Mammal Rescue Centre in British Columbia (2021).

Gabbers and I (2021).

Your Occasional Monty

The best days are spent just hanging out with my dog:

Book Recommendations

Not Dead and Not for Sale
Written by Scott Weiland

Every few months, I have the urge to read a salacious rock memoir. For this round, I decided to read the memoir of Scott Weiland, former frontman of Stone Temple Pilots and Velvet Revolver. Despite his well-documented hellion existence, this autobiography is actually quite light. It barely taps into his motivations and inspiration, which is unfortunate as I feel he was one of the most magnetic frontmen of the 90s and 00s, and glosses over most of his non-musical narrative. The saddest chapters are of introducing his second wife and brother to heavy narcotics (who also passed from an overdose) but never fully taking accountability for it; the bitterness towards people in his life, including former bandmates, is quite evident in his writings. Scott died in 2015 from a drug overdose.

Favourite line: “I believe that love only happens once or twice, but why, I wonder, does love always equal a broken heart?”

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Fall to Pieces
Written by Mary Forsberg Weiland

In concert with Scott’s memoir, I also read one by his ex-wife, former model Mary Forsberg. Framed as a “memoir of drugs, rock and roll, and mental illness”, the book explores the impacts of bipolar disorder diagnosis framed within the whirlwind lifestyle of the music industry. It definitely provided a more robust telling of her and Scott’s life together and the highs and lows they faced. Of particular interest to me was Mary’s bittersweet recounting of the early days of her career and meeting Scott, a hired driver employed by her modelling agency, prior to their fame. Mary has become a vocal advocate of the negative impacts of drug use.

Favourite line: “The only camera that matters is the one that is in my mind, and there is nothing about that night (or what was left of it) that I will ever forget.”

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Call Me Indian
Written by Fred Sasakamoose

Fred Sasakamoose was one of the first Indigenous hockey players, playing for the Chicago Blackhawks. This intriguing memoir details more than his ascent into the NHL though; Fred was a residential school survivor. He talks openly of his time at Duck Lake Residential School, including being sexually assaulted and of the bodies of other students rumoured to be buried onsite (‘Call Me Indian’ was published prior to the discovery of hundreds of remains at residential schools across the country), as well as the rampant racism he faced throughout his life. The book is an excellent, unfiltered reflection on Canadiana that we are just starting to acknowledge. Sadly, Fred died from COVID-19 in 2020.

Favourite line: “For years and years, I had been wondering how I actually did with the Hawks. Was I really good enough to be on that ice? To play with those players? And now, six decades later, I could finally answer that question. Yes. I was good enough.”

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My Love Story
Written by Tina Turner

Tina Turner’s turbulent life is well documented in both print and film, but her later years are not as well known. This memoir briefly retells, one more time, what we know but mainly focuses on her eighties career resurgence and the happier days of meeting and marrying record executive Erwin Bach. Tina is one of my all-time favourite icons and I will never tire of receiving her wisdom. Her acknowledgement of never really feeling love from her mother and other prominent relationships is heartbreakingly raw, but her resilience and tenacity show nothing can hold her down. Tina has mentioned that she is effectively retired from entertainment; upon reading about her very detailed and candid health issues, there is understanding why.

Favourite line: “My biography is life, the life of a woman who started as a little girl from Nutbush, who, as I’ve said many times, had strong winds against her, yet she stepped out into the big world with nothing but her voice, her optimism, and her will to survive.”

My favourite Stone Temple Pilots song.

Cleaning Out the Closet

When I visit home, my childhood home, I sleep in a room with wood-panelled walls and a window facing East. The floors are cool as it’s in the basement. The bed frame is old with new mismatched sheets. A dresser and closet contain artifacts from another time. A time when my father was alive.

It’s been seven years since my father received news that he needed to get his affairs in order as he had mere months to live. And then he was gone. Throughout that short period, my life felt like living in the eye of a hurricane. There was a million things to do. A million things to say. A million tears to cry. It is only recently that I’ve been truly reflecting on his life, impact and legacy. I’m sure the pandemic played a role in this pause.

In those seven years, his possessions remained untouched. Pairs of eyeglasses rest in cases placed on the dresser. Socks and belts are rolled up in the drawers. The closet is filled with XL-sized sweatshirts and the garish Hawaiian shirts he loved to wear. There are even old pairs of shoes. It never crossed my mind to get rid of these items because preserving them meant a part of him was still present. I didn’t want to lose that, nor lose the memories these inanimate objects held. But seven years is a long time. I struggled with the decision to clean and donate what could be salvaged but finally decided it was time.

Filling several bags with his clothes, I sorted between clear refuse and something that someone might need. There was a leather jacket that appeared good as new. A retro bowling shirt from one of his favourite television shows, Corner Gas, that a collector might have interest in. And, of course, all those Hawaiian shirts (Halloween is just around the corner)! I searched pockets for hidden treasure while taking in the moment. I was officially letting go. I felt sadness but also a sense of calm. There’s more to our being than the material possessions we leave behind. Love is the true legacy of a life well lived.

My bedroom at my childhood home is now filled with different signs of life, such as Monty’s squeaky toys and books that I dip into before slumber.

I kept one item after cleaning out the closet. Something that I rarely saw my father without. A hat always covered his head and while I sorted through his collection containing the emblems of a variety of random companies and sports teams, I decided to keep the one most well-worn of all — a Saskatchewan Roughriders cap that he bought, and proudly wore, after I moved to the province.

Wearing the one item I kept, my dad’s well-worn Saskatchewan Roughriders cap (©2021, Deborah Clague).

Sick Boy

The drive back to Winnipeg is one of my favourite roadtrips for equal parts nostalgia and recreation. Scenically, I feel the landscape is under-appreciated. Consisting of endless plains contrasted with the biggest, most vibrant skies you’ve ever seen, it is accurate to the joke that you can see your dog running away for several days (especially the section of Highway 1 from Indian Head to Whitewood)… but it’s also so much more. There is a vitality that might be missed by those just passing through on their way to the next major centre. There also isn’t too much traffic, so it becomes PEAK car karaoke time.

It takes me roughly eight hours to return home (or 120 songs on a carefully-crafted playlist). This is with absolute minimal fuel/food/washroom pitstops. By the time I get to my mom’s house, I am exhausted. Normally I arrive, I eat, I play with the dog and then I crash. This return though was slightly different. My mom and dog were very happy to see me but wee Monty was also sick. I did have concern; at almost 12-years-old, Monty is a senior pet and he has had health issues in the past. I tried to hide my distress though as my mother’s anxiety was already kicking in. He has been her “unofficial” therapy dog since 2014.

I stayed up all night with my little guy and got to thinking about what his companionship has meant to me. When I moved to Saskatoon, I had no idea what to expect. I had never even travelled to the city before. I knew loneliness—and perhaps worse—would creep in if I wasn’t proactive in terms of directing my energy. So within two weeks, I adopted him. It proved to be one of the best damn decisions of my life! Monty got me out of my apartment, exercising and interacting with my new community.

Our shared existence has had many milestones symbolizing the brevity of time. From that initial move to buying my first home, from losing my father to now taking care of my elderly mother, Monty’s presence over the past decade has provided a spark of happiness even in the most bleak of situations. It is not an exaggeration to say he owns my heart and I’m not yet ready to think about what my days will look like without him by my side. Of course, there are other dogs. Of course, I will welcome one into my home and spoil them rotten. But I don’t believe any other dog could share the connection Monty and I do. He’s a special guy.

By morning, as dusk broke into dawn, I got us both prepared to visit the vet. Bracing for the worst but hoping for the best, I tried to keep positive.

There is much to be said about allowing hope to shape one’s future.

There is also much to be said about listening to a trained medical professional inform you that your dog isn’t dying. He just ate something that didn’t agree with him. One shot and two prescribed medications would cure him.

I’m happy to report Monty was feeling better within 48 hours.

Philly Melt, The Nob

I never really thought of myself as a sandwich person. Throughout my life, the thing I most associate with bread is peanut butter and maybe raspberry jam as that is what I ate for lunch 95% of the time as a kid. But sandwiches as an adult are worth so much more exploration and, upon reflection, have provided some of the greatest gastronomic delights of my life—honestly, the best thing I ever ate was a cajun chicken sandwich from La Grande Epicerie in Paris that consisted of just three simple ingredients: cajun-seasoned chicken and guacamole on authentic French bread.

There is a sandwich in my hometown that is also worthy of high praise and ranking on my personal “best of” list. The Philly Melt from The Nob in Winnipeg is sheer perfection. Generously portioned roast beef topped with onions and peppers smothered in cheese resting atop a toasted pretzel bun. I’m salivating on my keyboard just typing about it. A visit home is incomplete without eating it at least once.

The Nob itself is a hidden gem in the historic south Winnipeg neighborhood I grew up in. Located on the side of a motor hotel, bar and beer store, the cafe might be unnoticeable to those passing through to the city proper. But eat there once and I guarantee you will return. Everything I’ve had on their menu has been delicious. The Nob is totally worthy of being featured on “You Gotta Eat Here” or “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives”.

Yes, the name of the restaurant is ridiculous.

Yes, this is one of the first things I ordered when visiting recently.

Yes, I am going to eat the whole damn thing.

Monty eyeing my Philly melt from The Nob, Winnipeg (©2021, Deborah Clague).

It's been 7 long years

It’s been a long time since I visited family.

I wanted to visit at Christmas but couldn’t because of the pandemic.

I wanted to visit on my birthday in early Spring but couldn’t because of the pandemic.

I wanted to visit on my mother’s birthday earlier this summer … but couldn’t because of the pandemic.

So it’s been a long time since I visited family. One year, in fact (or seven long dog years). I missed this guy.

Monty and I at my favourite park (©2021, Deborah Clague).

Monty (©2021, Deborah Clague).

Book Recommendations

Can’t Even, How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation
Written by Anne Helen Petersen

Born in 1980, I am what’s referred to as a “geriatric millennial”. On one hand, it was the perfect time to grow up; my childhood was highlighted by an independence that seems lacking with today’s helicopter parenting and it was also one of the greatest eras for toys. In addition, I got to live my teen years without the pressures of social media. On the flip side though, as an adult I will never be able to pay off my mortgage on one income in less than a decade (like my father did); degrees mean nothing in terms of building a stable, fairly compensated career; obtaining a pension can be as elusive as winning the lottery; and, branding your person is normalized and often expected. Human beings are not commodities though. My generation’s existence is punctuated by turbulent economic conditions that only seek to benefit the already affluent and a lifestyle increasingly defined by burnout. This book does a great job of explaining the reasons as to why we’ve arrived at this point. While conditions seem unyielding, the book did make me consider how much I choose to participate.

Favorite line: “Faced with the prospect of working themselves into the ground on their own — and excelling — or working themselves into the ground while also doing all the work for the family as their careers are stymied at every turn, it’s no wonder that so many Japanese women are opting out: of marriage, of motherhood, or the idea that womanhood requires either.”

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The 99% Invisible City: A Field Guide to the Hidden World of Everyday Design
Written by Roman Mars and Kurt Kohlstedt

We drive down a city’s streets. We walk in the shadows of her skyscrapers and tree canopy. But do we notice all of the small, often hidden, details of the places we live and visit? The 99% Invisible City explores these minute curiosities. The book was interesting but could be improved with photography rather than stylistic illustrations.

Favourite line: “Animals are unlikely to see a return of the world as it was before cities, highways, and dams anytime soon, but for their part humans cannot just plow ahead with development and expect wildlife to cope. In some cases, the best approach may be simply for humans to get out of the way, but people need to understand that cities and nature are all part of the same ecosystem and that proactive strategies will be needed to help various species survive in a human-centric world.”

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Alone on the Wall
Written by Alex Honnold with David Roberts

Alex is an American rock climber famous for his free-solo climbs, a form of rock climbing without any safety apparatus such as ropes, harnesses or other protective equipment. His most famous ascent was at El Capitan at Yosemite National Park which was filmed for the award-winning documentary ‘Free Solo’. Alex is an interesting figure with unparalleled athletic prowess but this book barely digs into his motivations. It’s more technical than inspirational. I couldn’t finish it and recommend the doc instead.

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Pixar Storytelling
Written by Dean Movshovitz

A very slim book that doesn’t really aid with or inspire effective storytelling. There are much better books on writing to improve your craft.

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On the Road
Written by Jack Kerouac

I thought ‘On The Road’ would inspire a renewed sense of wanderlust for when this pandemic ends … instead, it reminded me of the worth of my time and to use it on pursuits of value. This book, about the exploits of a group of counterculture pseudo-intellectuals traveling America in the forties, is considered a classic by some. But its stream of consciousness writing is terrible to navigate and most of the narrative presented needs to remain in the past (or in a time capsule deep, deep, underground). The prose here is nothing to celebrate or romanticize.

Hallelujah

I spent today lying in bed or on the couch, staring at the ceiling as that is all the energy I could muster. My television was off. My blackout shades were drawn. I couldn’t handle the slightest of stimuli.

My body is fighting off chills and high fever. One moment, the warmth of a half-dozen blankets can’t keep me warm; the next, I feel like I’ve spent hours in a sauna. Every muscle seems to ache, especially my left bicep which I can’t even raise. My head is pounding. There’s also a weird tingly sensation in my mouth.

I couldn’t be happier though. As of yesterday, Friday, June 25, at 1:43pm, I am fully vaccinated against the COVID-19 virus. The double shot of Pfizer may have taken me out momentarily but it’s also given me a world of opportunity as we start to get our lives back.