October's Book: From the Ashes

From the Ashes by Jesse Thistle
Autobiography (2019 - 347 pp.)

In From the Ashes, Jesse Thistle chronicles his life to date, from a troubled childhood to homelessness as a young adult, before attending university and then becoming a professor at York University. The book is entirely in first person, written by Thistle, interspersed with pictures of him, his family, and any other people of note. I read this book as part of the University of Alberta Alumni Book Club.

From the Ashes opens in medias res, in prison, with a devastating assault, possibly murder, on an inmate. (3-4) This is one of the most exciting prologues I've read in a while, and it frames Thistle's story perfectly: difficulty surviving. The prison assault has an American History X feel to it. If it were included chronologically like the rest of the story, it would likely fit into "Solitary Confinement". (252) From there, Thistle goes all the way back to his first memories, where his life begins.

From the Ashes is split into four parts:

1. Lost and Alone (1979-1987)
2. Falling Apart (1988-1996)
3. The Stolen Streets (1998-2007)
4. Reconciliation (2008-2017)

Each part is divided into a number of smaller chapters, ranging anywhere from 2-10 pages, which makes From the Ashes an incredibly fast read. There is rarely a time when the reader simply does not have time to read more chapter. This process snowballs into reading entire parts in one go. "Lost and Alone" covers Thistle's childhood, starting when he lives alternately with each of his divorced parents, then briefly in foster care, then with his grandparents. "Falling Apart" covers the period when Thistle goes from being a troubled but manageable child to developing anger, mental health and addiction issues. "The Stolen Streets" covers Thistle's young adulthood, on-again off-again homelessness, gruesome leg injury, and imprisonment. "Reconciliation" covers his ascent from these problems to life as a professor. The only thing really missing from From the Ashes is Thistle's work as a doctoral student, which would have been a fascinating read after reading all the rest.

Thistle is the narrator and the protagonist, which binds the reader to him, but he is careful never to present himself as a proverbial "good guy". Thistle commits his first violent crime as an early teenager, when he robs a boy named Ivan in twilight on the boy's front yard; it is one of Thistle's cruelest moments, and it is astonishing he was never reported and arrested for it. (110) Thistle relays his extensive use of welfare fraud schemes during an unrelated criminal trial, (see below) which he describes in vivid detail.* (204) 

Nonetheless, a litany of horrors is thrown in Thistle's face, none of which are entirely his fault. His first exposure to heroin use was stumbling upon his father, in "Hornet", injecting in the bathroom. His father describes the needle as a hornet in the skin, which contains medicine that would be harmful to Thistle. (22) This statement comes very true as the book goes on. In a sober moment, Thistle takes temporary employment in manual labour jobs in Vancouver, some of which never pay even when he does the work. In the worst case, Jesse's reaction was one that would later become horror: "'What's asbestos?' I asked. 'Nobody told me.'" (163) Thistle accidentally meets the two murderers of Baljinder Singh Rai, the Greater Toronto Area's first murder of 2000. The murderers attempt to use him as an unwitting accomplice, which leads to him testifying against himself (on the welfare fraud-related matters mentioned above) in open court. (197) Although Thistle's brothers become successful, including the irony of one becoming an RCMP officer despite the Thistle family's history of criminality, Thistle ends up in situations that either lead him to abuse or lead him to be abused. The scene in which Thistle's father has all three preschool-aged sons, including Thistle, help him rob a convenience store has the unfortunate distinction of being both. (23-26)

One of the main messages of From the Ashes is the importance of not getting in your own way. Thistle loses his girlfriend Karen, who he met when she brought blueberry muffins to a house party, (139) by cheating on her. Thistle's blackout in a nightclub, which happens while he is accompanied by a mysterious man named Rex whose relationship to Thistle is unmentioned and who is unmentioned anywhere else in the book, occurs due to his self-described lack of awareness. (169-173)

Thistle's leg injury, which bothers him to this day (or at least to the time of the book's publication), happens due to his unaided attempt to scale his brother's wall, "like Spider-Man". Thistle was locked out of the apartment building during a fight with his brother and his then-girlfriend. Thistle's lines describing the event are very poetic, although I am sure he would have preferred to not be writing them from first-hand experience:

People who say your life flashes before you when you’re about to die are full of shit. What does happen is your world slows down—seconds feel like hours, the sounds all around become clearer, colours and lights become so bright you can see everything—every bug and creepy-crawly thing in existence. (232)

As the book goes on, a diametric opposition emerges between Thistle's interactions with public authorities and his increasing ability to set his own goals. The near-constant presence of government in Thistle's life, from the Children's Aid workers who take him away from his father at the start of the book to the police officers who arrest him to the prison system that holds him during his 20s, is a nod to the ever-presence of government in Thistle's life. It is when Thistle is recovering from his various drug addictions that he notices just how institutionalized his life has become: “Those cinder blocks seemed to follow me wherever I went—the ones found in jails, mental institutions, probation offices, hospitals, detox centres, detention centres, shelters, Sally Anns, welfare offices, court holding cells, police bullpens.” (295) All of the institutions Thistle mentions here, other than the Salvation Army and some of the shelters, are run by governments.

Arguably the greatest line in From the Ashes is when Thistle sets out how he is going to escape this centrifuge of despair: by setting small, incremental goals. This is how Thistle ultimately overcomes his difficulties with systems like university applications, moving toward becoming the professor he is today:

I’d literally set one- or two-minute goals—If I can just make it to the next minute, I thought, then I might have a chance to live; I might have a chance to be something more than just a struggling crackhead. (313)

The first line above is one of the lines I most identified with in From the Ashes, primarily because I have a noted history of running and I am an Orangetheory Fitness member. When you run, each 0.1 of a mile (or kilometre) motivates you toward the finish line, toward a new personal best, or toward wherever you may end up. When you think, "I have three more miles to run", it is almost depressing unless you are running a marathon. When you think, "just to the next 0.1," or "just to the next street", it feels like you can do it endlessly. One of the topics Thistle comes back to frequently in From the Ashes is how often he was running from something. Running toward something is what saves him.

As a Canadian reader, I felt a connection to some of the places and topics Thistle discusses. Thistle's time in Toronto plugs Sam the Record Man, where I went before its 2007 closure; MuchMusic, which I watched religiously on Friday afternoons growing up;** the Royal Ontario Museum, where I am a member;*** and the Hudson's Bay Company, where I've shopped many times. Seeing the reaction of someone as Canadian as I am, yet so different from me, to these iconic places was one of the more reality-checking moments of From the Ashes: it holds that the old phrase "this happens where you live" is true. On a quainter note, I found various characters' use of, and others' difficulty understanding, Michif to be interesting. As someone who speaks French as a second language, but had never seen Michif written out before reading From the Ashes, I found I could read the Michif phrases in the book seamlessly.

One of Thistle's favourite early memories is Christmas. His family got together, whichever members were living in close enough proximity any given year, and the food shortages Thistle experienced growing up were in temporary abeyance. (72) The return to family shows through when Thistle tracks down his brothers, whenever he sees his mother, and perhaps most notably, when a chance meeting with a fellow teenager becomes foreshadowing for meeting his wife. (84) As Thistle's grandfather tells him when he is a child: "family is the most important thing." (89)

Ease of Reading: 9

Educational Content: 4

*Thistle states: “They give out $1,000 for start-up if you have that. It’s to get you set up in a place with food and clothes—all that shit. But most people just scam it for money and stay at a friend’s house. I do it all the time—forge rental documents so I have some money—” (204)

**I am convinced the MuchMusic Countdown provided me with context for two of my great loves: music and lists. Loud and Pop-Up Video were good too.

***Note to bearded readers during these COVID-19 times: if you are going to wear a mask for 2-3 hours in a public place that requires it, shave first. My pet theory is that mask wearing will finally end the beard trend of the past 18 or so years.

RBC Race for the Kids 2020: Royal York Race

For my fifth consecutive year running the RBC Race for the Kids, I had a special challenge: devise my own route, for my own distance. I chose to run the longest I've ever run for an RBC race (11.5 km), the entirety of the way down Royal York Road, from St. Philip's Anglican Church at the north end to Lake Ontario at the south end. Supporting Sunnybrook Hospital's Family Navigation Project has never been more creative.

In light of the lack of race kits this year, I wore my RBC Race for the Kids 2018 shirt. I also packed blue Gatorade - why not colour coordinate?

The ceremonial starting gate since 1828. (I ran south across Dixon Road, not east through the churchyard.)

Showing off my gear before the race.

Finishing point. I started at 10:45AM, finished at 12:03PM.

What the race lacked in camaraderie and competition, it made up in scenery and a sort of Zen oneness with the running experience itself.

Once again, as always, a huge thank you to all my donors! There's still time.

No New Balance mascot this time, though.

Accidental Summer on Mars! Icehenge

Icehenge by Kim Stanley Robinson
Science Fiction (1984 - 262 pp.)

Kim Stanley Robinson's Icehenge has what might be the catchiest premise in science fiction history: scientists discover a mysterious Stonehenge-like structure on the North Pole of Pluto,* and then become obsessed with understanding why it is there. It is the second of his books I have discussed on the blog after 2002's The Years of Rice and Salt.

Icehenge's three protagonists exist centuries apart: Emma Weil narrates Part 1 from the year 2248AD, on a spaceship near Mars. Hjalmar Nederland narrates Part 2 from the year 2547AD, primarily on or near Mars. Edmond Doya narrates Part 3 from the year 2610AD, on Pluto. Weil foreshadows some of the events in Parts 2 and 3, and Nederland foreshadows some of the events in Part 3, creating a matryoshka doll-like sequence in which the reader knows key details before some of the narrators do but in a completely plausible way. For example, Doya's discovery of the Sanskrit inscription on one of Icehenge's faces is old news to the reader, who has the benefit of seeing Nederland discover it in the previous part.

Icehenge's problem is how much of it occurs on Mars. The entirety of Part 1 is on Mars and most of Part 2 is on Mars. This Martian-centricness continues until the word "Pluto" and the concept of Icehenge are finally mentioned forty pages into Part 2 (109), and the word "Icehenge" is finally used a few pages later. (114) Icehenge was one of Robinson's early releases (he was 32 when it was published); while he would not publish his Mars trilogy until the 1990s, it is possible the Martian focus is simply what the publisher expected science fiction fans would buy. 

Amidst the Martian Revolution** that forms a historical curiosity later in the book but does not concern Icehenge, Part 1's main point of interest is the level of technological development aboard the Rust Eagle. Weil runs in a low-gravity gym, has access to stereotypical raygun-esque weaponry, and consumes space-grown food:***

The foods grown on ship--salads, vegetable drinks, fish or scallops or chicken or rabbit, goat cheese, milk, yoghurt--were supplemented by non-renewable supplies: coffee, tea, bread, beef... They would run out of those things pretty fast. (21)

Robinson selects the renewable and non-renewable food seemingly at random. The greatest example is that there are goat pens onboard, (29) requiring a substantial agricultural area, but there is an apparent shortage of coffee and tea plants, both of which can be grown in a standard balcony planter. Why a 23rd-century interplanetary spaceship capable of launching a war on Mars cannot produce a modest quantity of coffee or tea for the crew is never explained.

When the story takes off at the beginning of Part 2, Nederland emerges as the book's de facto protagonist. He narrates 100 of the book's 262 pages, establishes a deep connection with Weil through discovering her diary, and also talks to Doya near the end of Part 3.****

Nederland is the vehicle for most of Robinson's beautiful, contemplative prose. Nederland's opening monologue, starting with the line "Memory is the weak link", (67) ending with the line "What we feel most, we remember best", (68) sets up a story of exploration from Mars to Pluto, discovery (of Icehenge itself), and longing for a past Nederland can never visit, when he can fall in love with a young Weil. Nederland's twin obsessions with the future (Pluto/Icehenge) and the past (Mars/Weil) lead him to the brink of insanity, which he reflects on by noting, "I have always feared insanity. It seems to me the most horrifying of illnesses, and the Achilles heel of modern medicine." (136) This prediction of Robinson's, hidden in an observation of Nederland's, may be prescient; mental health is already a major focus area in modern medicine. These COVID-19 pandemic times, complete with social distancing and self-isolation, may actually be the forerunner of how mentally devastating it must be on a spaceship. 

Nederland finishes Part 2 with a sigh, noting that although he still has not seen Icehenge up close yet, and he will likely never know Weil's fate, he has to live with the reality that the past is gone and the present is our only reality: "Our lives are plants, creating leaves and flowers that fall away and are lost forever." (166)

Part 3 shows Doya arrive on Pluto and investigate Icehenge. It is the most setting-driven, with speculative descriptions of what seasons on Pluto must be like: "It was spring in the northern hemisphere---coldest, longest spring under the sun--and the sun stayed just over the horizon all the time." (248) Icehenge's memorial inscription follows. In a final sightseeing before they return, Doya and his shipmate Jones spot Pluto's Pole Star, leading the reader to imagine what constellations might be visible from Pluto. (253) What happened at Icehenge, whenever it happened (2248, 2547, or sometime in between?), Doya and his shipmate Jones finally admit they will never know. (261)

Icehenge is truly three stories in one. The first shows Weil in a traditional science fiction plot, the Martian Revolution, complete with a technical diagram of the ship's farm. (29) The second shows Nederland dig through the remnants of his past. The third shows Doya, and, to those of us who bought the book in part because of its title, Icehenge, provide Pluto's vast starscape that should capture the imagination of any reader. Robinson's versatility would follow him later in his career - ironically, in The Years of Rice and Salt, set on a very different Earth. For Robinson's first novel, though, the exotic by science fiction standards setting of Pluto is the end and the beginning.

Ease of Reading: 8

Educational Content: 2

*In Icehenge, Pluto is referred to as a planet, because in 1984, it still was. I have speculated before that 1930-2006 will be known as "The Pluto Era".

**The existence of the Washington-Lenin Alliance between the United States and the USSR means that Icehenge falls into a frequent Cold War-era science fiction trap: the continuation of the USSR into future centuries. This also occurs in other contemporary works, notably William Gibson's Burning Chrome. It does not make the writing any worse, especially in Icehenge, as the characters never go to Earth, making the name of the United States's collaborator in space travel irrelevant. It remains a point of jocularity, though.

***The idea of growing food in space presages Andy Weir's The Martian (2012), which I read earlier this summer. The Martian contains more technical language, making the decision to adapt it into a movie an obvious one. Whereas The Martian's potato-filled hydroponic farm is beautifully explained, Icehenge is an easier read because of the bald assumption that interplanetary agriculture could exist.

****Characters live to be very old in the world of Icehenge, although they only tend to remember their most recent eighty years.

Fall into My Summer Reading List

Happy First Day of Fall!

Due in part to the pandemic-induced lockdown, due also in part to the lack of public transit leading me to read more paperbacks at home, I read more books this summer than in any summer since 2012.

Here's the list, with links where there are entries on here:

Eight of the books I read this summer. The other three are at my parents' house right now.

Shogun by James Clavell (F) - June 28, 2020

The Martian by Andy Weir (F) - July 2020

Red Planet by Robert A. Heinlein (F) - July 2020

I Can't Make This Up by Kevin Hart - July 2020

Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell (F) - July 2020

The Gambler by Fyodor Dostoevsky (F) - July 30, 2020 is when I actually finished it

Are We Smart Enough to Know How Smart Animals Are? by Frans de Waal - August 23, 2020

The Mindful Day by Laurie Cameron - August 26, 2020

Quiet by Susan Cain - August 2020

The Difference Engine by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling (F) - September 20, 2020

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson - September 21, 2020

Of these eleven books:

• Six are fiction; the other five are non-fiction. I've put an (F) beside the fiction entries.
• I only own five out of the eleven. The other six are books I've borrowed. Of the five I own, one was a Christmas present, and another one came from a Little Free Library. Of the three I purchased, I paid under $4 for each of them. This has been a remarkably cheap reading summer.
• All eleven are paper books. My e-reading has fallen by the wayside now that I'm at home more often.

With colder weather will come more books, more blankets, and surely some books that cost me more than a falafel wrap.

Bonus Book! The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck by Mark Manson

Self-Help (2016 - 204 pp.)

After eight years of not posting entries on self-help books, I'm doing two in a month. 

In The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson sets out why we should all focus on what's actually important, allocating the fucks we give (his terminology) toward our goals and our families rather than the millions of distractions available to us every day. He warns against indifference, noting that to not give a fuck about anything is, ironically, a decision one makes regarding the giving of fucks.

This message was relevant in 2016, but it's even more relevant now that the world is overtaken by the COVID-19 pandemic. With families separated by social distancing measures, and cultural landmarks shuttered, relatively few sources of love or entertainment remain. There's no point in caring how nice your suit looks when your work meetings are all by phone. There's no point in caring what other people think of you when you're stuck at home by yourself. There's no point in caring which restaurants you can be seen at when they're all relegated to takeout. Perhaps 2020 is the year when The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck, already a bestseller, becomes a mantra. Compared to a lethal virus, why care about your cancelled wedding?

The section entitled "Emotions are overrated" (33) goes against a lot of the modern literature, but I'm inclined to side with Mark, who states that emotions are impulse-driven incentives for us to seek out certain activities and avoid others. Contrary to the recent popular narrative than talking about one's emotions takes courage, or is difficult, I'd argue that talking about your own emotions is actually the easiest thing you can do. They're your emotions, so you, by definition, are the world's leading expert. They're emotions, so you can't be wrong about them. If you tell me King Charles XII of Sweden died in what's now Ukraine, or that a hydrogen atom has a valence of 2, I can tell you you're wrong. If you tell me you're happy or sad or angry, no one can tell you you're wrong. Imagine being an expert on something that can never be proven wrong. Easy.

I'm three years younger than Mark. We're clearly of the same generation. I smiled when Mark mentioned his oversized Pantera T-shirt;* (48) the comparison of Dave Mustaine to Pete Best (78-79) is also a fun one, in part because I have such positive memories of listening to both Metallica and Megadeth. I think Mustaine is more satisfied with his career than Mark admits, but still, "not as successful as Metallica" is a tough metric to live by.

Occasionally, Mark attributes problems to "shitty values" when the question of what is causing those problems is far from answered. On relationships, he says:

A friend of mine recently got engaged to be married. The guy who proposed to her is pretty solid. He doesn't drink. He doesn't hit her or mistreat her. He's friendly and has a good job. (135)

Let's break down this paragraph. Mark mentions three things this guy doesn't do,** an adjective so generic as to be meaningless (who isn't "friendly" at least some of the time?), and then makes a vague statement that could describe anyone from an accountant to a pro athlete. (What is "a good job"? What if this guy ever gets fired?) I don't know a thing about this guy from this paragraph. What if, instead, the paragraph read, "He's an amateur craft beer expert. He's great at hitting a tennis ball and he always holds her hand. He's constantly making new friends through his volunteer work. He's passionate about his career."? For all Mark attacks his friend's brother, who apparently (I don't know them) projects his own fears onto his sister's engagement, Mark thought this man justified a feature in his book but couldn't name one good thing about him. Similarly, Mark mentions having gone to fifty-five countries, but sees no need to name them or to say what he gained from going. A lack of good things to say about a person, place or experience speaks far louder than the presence of bad things.

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck ends with Mark's trip to the Cape of Good Hope.^ (194) As someone who is captivated by geographical extreme points, and has written on them on this blog before, I thought it was the perfect way to end the book. Being in Africa but with your eyes set on Antarctica, thirty feet above a sheer drop to the confluence of two major oceans, contemplating a jump^^ before walking back to Cape Town. Although international travel is more difficult these days than it has been in a long time, I hope to get there someday too.

Ease of Reading: 10

Educational Content: 1

*My oversized Pantera T-shirt is the one with the snake in fire on it.

**You know who else doesn't do bad things? Dead people, butterflies and houseplants. "I'm marrying the wisteria!" just doesn't have a ring to it.

^This may or may not violate my "no spoilers" rule, but really, I don't think it's possible to spoil a self-help book.

^^Thirty feet actually isn't that far to jump, provided you jump with proper technique. The key is to have a motorboat ready to pick you up after you submerge.

September's Book: The Difference Engine

The Difference Engine by William Gibson and Bruce Sterling

Historical Fiction / Science Fiction (1990 - 492 pp.)

In The Difference Engine, William Gibson and Bruce Sterling create a science fiction world set in an alternate universe 1855 London. Inventors run rampant with new steampunk gadgets. The United States of America is split into four parts, including a proto-Confederacy, the Republic of Texas, and the Republic of California. France and Mexico support the exiled Sam Houston in a planned invasion of the Republic of Texas, while England, ruled by scientists and poets, looks on in horror.

The book bounces between Sybil Gerard, an anti-government activist opposed to the era’s rapid technological advances; Edward Mallory, a paleontologist who has discovered numerous new dinosaur fossils; and Laurence Oliphant, a journalist who is close to Mallory and who takes down the story of the book’s improbable events. Mallory is the default protagonist, starring in three of the book’s five parts. The action centres on his uncanny victory in a race between steampunk-ish machines in “Derby Day” (see below), concomitant with his reception of a mysterious rosewood box that leads a criminal gang to pursue him. When London rapidly turns lawless, Mallory and his brothers realize they have no traditional police protection, so they and an undercover detective seek out the gang’s ringleader.

The First Iteration, “The Angel of Goliad”, introduces characters who will either never be seen again or who will only be seen again much later, making it feel like the main action while reading it but like an extended prologue for the rest of the book. Mick Radley, who stars alongside Gerard in “The Angel of Goliad”, explains what many of us in 2020 still think: that technological progress, not activism, is what propels the world forward. In a world where Charles Babbage and Ada Lovelace (Byron) are nobles, Radley tells Gerard that “Lord Charles Babbage made blueprints while we made pamphlets. And his blueprints built this world.” (27) The action peaks in “Derby Day”, when Mallory’s character is introduced at a race of what appear to be horse-drawn steam gurneys; (111) a diagram would have been helpful. At the urging of his friend Mr. Godwin, Mallory makes the rash but lucky decision to bet a considerable sum.* Mallory’s Ted Mosby-stylelecturing would come later in the book; in “Derby Day”, he is a high-stakes gambler. The juxtaposition of Mallory receiving a rosewood box from Lady Byron and being accosted by a shadowy criminal while the race is raging is the high point of the plot. (112)

Mallory’s discovery of the “Land Leviathan”, among other dinosaur species, is central to his character. His discussions of (in this philosopher king-ruled universe) Lord Charles Darwin and Lord Francis Galton** tie into the inquisitive, and ultimately long-winded, nature of everything he does. The recounts of his paleontological expeditions took me back to my summer 2019 trip to London, when people could travel internationally without quarantining themselves for 14 days. One of London’s unheralded finds is the first dinosaur statues, located in and around a series of lagoons at Crystal Palace, dating from the mid-1850s.

The eventual importance of the Land Leviathan to the plot is, of course, not to be spoiled for the upcoming reader of The Difference Engine.

At times, the reader is overly immersed into the book’s setting. Just like That ‘70s Show was more ‘70s than the ‘70s in its constant rehashing of the era’s tropes, The Difference Engine sometimes plays up 1855 to the point that it distracts from the plot. Nearly every country in the world is mentioned. Slang from the era is wedged into the characters’ speech. I believed it was 1855 even before Brian Mallory, Edward’s brother, explains who Sepoys were. Mallory’s occupation as a paleontologist, and Brian’s occupation as a military officer, explains why they travel so far, but not all of the available information needs to find its way to the page.

Gibson and Sterling’s short, clipped writing style is a boon in a genre that frequently lends itself to interminable expositions. Pages of dialogue fly by, with a paragraph break every second line. As someone who has struggled through run-on paragraphs*** more times than I can count, reading such a fast-paced book in such a world-building-rich genre is an experience I would be thrilled to repeat. 

One of my traditions on this blog is giving credit to authors who introduce me to new words, a task that I assure you gets increasingly difficult as the years wear on. Gibson and Sterling introduced me to three: decoction, the resultant flavoured water after boiling a plant (195); batrachian, of or relating to a frog or toad; (201) and harridan, “a scolding, vicious woman”. (434) Next time I make tea, I suppose I will call it a “decoction”, which will hopefully not be so irritable it turns anyone in my vicinity into a batrachian harridan.

My copy is the 20^th anniversary edition, which is fitting, because it’s The Difference Engine’s 30^th anniversary this year. As with any forward-looking sciencefiction novel, The Difference Engine’s 1855 contains similarities to 2020. Due to London’s air pollution, the characters have to wear masks, (304) reminiscent of the world’s current COVID-19-induced experience. Lack of meaningful police presence in parts of London causes disgruntled local residents to enforce the peace themselves, (357-358) reminiscent of the Capital Hill Autonomous Zone in Seattle, Washington earlier this year. Finally, there is a character unluckily named Andrew Wakefield, the same name as the doctor who wrote the since-debunked report inspiring legions of anti-vaccination activists the world over.

Sadly, The Difference Engine doesn’t contain a table of contents. It is split into six large parts, rather than traditional chapters, each containing a number of scenes. Whether Gibson and Sterling decided on the lack of table of contents, or the publisher did, I have rectified the problem by creating a table of contents as follows: 

o   First Iteration: The Angel of Goliad (3)

o   Second Iteration: Derby Day (84)

o   Third Iteration: Dark-Lanterns (115)

o   Fourth Iteration: Seven Curses (247)

o   Fifth Iteration: The All-Seeing Eye**** (368)

o   Modus: The Images Tabled (451)

o   Afterword (487)

I wouldn’t usually emphasize an afterword this much, but Gibson’s commentary is so interesting I have a couple things to say about it. One is that Gibson reveals that there is a narrator in what was ostensibly a third-person omniscient novel, the “Narratron”, a sentient computer that somehow witnesses all these events, (488) including Mallory’s visit to a prostitute. (257-270) At no point in The Difference Engine did I ever get a whiff of the Narratron or anything like it, even if, as Gibson says, its identity is ever so sort of revealed on the book’s last page. The Narratron’s failure to exist does not subtract from The Difference Engine, so why Gibson bothered to mention it, I have no clue.

The final page of Gibson’s afterword includes an epigram that, although Gibson meant it to apply to literature, I think applies equally well to those who lionize cherry-picked details of their favourite historical figures: “When you raise the dead, they bring their baggage.” (492) Or maybe it just describes a zombie movie that takes place in an airport.

Ease of Reading: 8
Educational Content: 3

*Mallory bets 50 pounds, which was equal to 2,369.05 in 1990, when The Difference Engine came out; Mallory wins 400 pounds, equal to 18,952.38 in 1990.

**Francis Galton was, among other things, one of the fathers of modern statistics. He was also an ardent eugenicist, which the book mentions despite not mentioning anything about Galton’s advancements in statistics. It’s a “Solingen is where Adolf Eichmann was from, but we won’t even bother mentioning its centuries-long metalworkingtraditions” moment, I suppose.

***A cousin of the better-known run-on sentence, the run-on paragraph is: a paragraph that includes so many thoughts it would have been better broken up into multiple paragraphs.

****Despite this iteration title and the abundance of secrecy in The Difference Engine, the book makes no mention of Freemasonry. I was surprised by that.

Bonus Book! The Mindful Day (The Mindful Scorecard)

The Mindful Day by Laurie Cameron

Self-Help (2018 - 245 pp.)

Laurie Cameron's The Mindful Day walks the reader through 24 hours of uncensored, uncut mindfulness: locking into your lived experience from waking up to falling asleep, through whichever of work, school or anything else you do.

Five bullet points on the back of the book explain its contents in a nutshell:

• Wake up to joy
• Create a morning routine
• Focus your wandering mind
• See your loved ones with fresh eyes
• Transition peacefully from day to evening

Among the book's emphases are oneness with nature, appreciation for the presence of family members, forgiveness toward those who trespass against us,* and refusing to obsess over things we can't control.

Rather than write a traditional entry for The Mindful Day, I'll focus on the field guide aspect of the book. I've discussed many field guides on this blog, from O.P.E.N. Routine to The Hobo Handbook, and I assure you there will be more to come. When I discuss them, I pay special attention to any exercises or practical advice they give.

The Mindful Day's table of contents is broken into chapters with subheadings. Each subheading is written in the imperative, directing the reader to perform (or refuse to perform) a certain task in order to achieve maximum mindfulness. Some of these I already do, some I don't, some I should, and some I'm glad I don't. There are 50 directions, giving those of us who love calculating percentages an easy time - doubling the raw score gives a percentage score in, for lack of a better term, mindfulness compliance.

I repeat each direction in bold below and then write 1-2 sentences explaining my response. I encourage you to do this exercise only once you've finished the book. The directions aren't numbered; I'm adding numbers for ease of reference.

HOME: Start the Day

1. Wake up to joy - YES

Every morning, I wake up to a melodious alarm. Anyone who's heard it says it's the nicest sounding alarm they've ever heard. Fifteen minutes later, the BRRRRRRRRRRING starts.

2. Sit still and breathe for five minutes - YES

This is usually a product of overtiredness, sadly. I need a few minutes to wake up before I make my morning coffee (or get it out of the fridge if I'm drinking iced coffee from the night before). It is rather still, though.

3. Strengthen a positive outlook - YES

My outlook is so positive I was once nicknamed Pollyanna.

4. Set intentions - YES

I have a few key tasks I make sure I do every day. These tasks have no one watching over me but myself. If you can't keep a promise to yourself, how can you keep a promise to anyone else?

5. Reflect in writing - YES

I keep extensive notes of everything from my grocery lists to my new consumer purchases. The notes of regular people in the current day inform the cultural historians of the future.

6. Meditate through exercise - YES

At varying times throughout the day, I work out at Orangetheory Fitness for an hour. (Pre-COVID, at least.) When I'm getting through my reps, or blowing away the competition on the treadmill, I enter a hyperactive yet calm Zen zone.

Otherwise, or in addition to that workout, I walk, sometimes over 30,000 steps in a day. I've also run in the RBC Race for the Kids every year since 2016.

7. Shower with awareness - YES

On a bad day, a shower can be the best part of the day. Whether it's phone, email, social media, or any other medium, it's nearly impossible to interrupt someone who's taking a long, hot shower. The exception, ironically, is that whenever I go to the gym, showering afterward becomes far more urgent. There's a meditative trade-off.

(Sorry, no picture for this one.)

A question for Laurie Cameron: what about people who prefer baths?

8. Listen to nature's symphony - YES

When I'm at my parents' house or at the cottage, I take in the wind rustling the trees and the bird calls that come every morning. Admittedly, when I'm at my apartment, this symphony is replaced by the gulping sound of pigeons.

9. Connect at breakfast - NO

This is the first mindful tip I don't practice, dropping me to 8-1 overall. I routinely ate breakfast at work, back when physical workplaces were the norm. If I'm at home, I usually reheat leftovers. Breakfast isn't a social time for me.

10. Set a morning routine - NO

I'm not a routine-oriented person. If I ate the same breakfast every day, I'd be bored out of my mind. One of my mane mottos is "show me something I haven't seen before". Yes, that includes which spices I put on my leftover fried rice.

11. Wave goodbye - YES

Whenever someone else is in the same dwelling as me, I make sure to wave goodbye - especially to pets. As we learned from the admittedly underwhelming Secret Life of Pets, they need it the most.

Record so far: 9-2

WORK: Seize the day

12. Transform your commute - YES

My commute is sometimes my favourite part of the day. (Again, pre-COVID.) Sitting on the subway on a cold Toronto winter day, my charcoal wool trench coat on over my suit, with a coffee beside me and a book in my hands, I feel like the sophisticated travellers on European trains from a century ago.

13. Greet colleagues with presence - YES

I've been called "smiley" (as an adjective, not as a nickname) for doing this.

14. Focus your wandering mind - YES

I'm a big believer in the "eat the frog" philosophy. At home, that usually means emptying the dishwasher. At work, that could mean responding to an unpleasant email or replacing printer paper.

15. Remember your purpose - NO

This is a weird point to answer in the negative, but I can't think of myself as having one singularly defined purpose, even on a given day. This morning alone, I've made coffee, done online banking, had a conversation, listened to music and started this blog entry.

16. Listen mindfully - YES

I'm a believer in active listening.

17. Lead mindful meetings - YES

As part of multiple executive committees, we have agendas that bring us back to the important topics of the day. We can have free-form discussions but they always circle back to the main points.

18. Email and text mindfully - NO

I generally pause before hitting Send. However, I text spontaneously, usually with friends. Using the legal maxim that the word "and" requires all the items in the list to be considered, one for two doesn't cut it here.

19. Keep an open mind - YES

I put vindaloo powder on my pasta.

20. Banish multitasking - NO

I dislike the book's opposition to multitasking - I'm listening to music as I write this - my rule is one task per sense at any given time. An example I've given on Quora is eating dinner while watching a movie. Your senses of sight and hearing are occupied by the movie, while your senses of smell, taste and touch are occupied by your meal. Neither the movie experience nor the dinner experience is compromised.

21. Face difficult emotions - NO

If I feel a difficult emotion, it's usually related to a problem that requires fixing. Rather than ponder my emotions, I fix the problem, if possible. If I can't fix the problem, I accept that and move on to something I can fix.

22. Create space when overwhelmed - NO

This echoes #21 above: if I'm overwhelmed, it's because there are multiple priorities I'm juggling. In these situations, I frequently complete tasks in inverse order of time required, so I can focus on more in-depth tasks without having quick tasks continue to hang over my head. If I have to draft a document and take out the trash, I'll usually take out the trash first so I can focus on the document. I suppose taking out trash is creating space in a literal sense, albeit not in the figurative way Cameron envisions.

23. Prepare for a tough conversation - YES

Depending on the conversation, preparation can be as quick as a confirmation email or as detailed as a page of notes.

24. Reframe challenging situations - YES

In my line of work, I frequently deal with people who have had bad things happen, sometimes calamitously so. Helping people let go of the past and meet their future opportunities is essential for me.

25. Calm your inner critic - NO

This is something I think most people could do better, myself included. Should I have hopped on that flight to Oslo when I was delayed in the airport in Newark back in 2011?** It would have been woefully irresponsible, but I still haven't been to Scandinavia, so...

26. End the workday with ease - YES

Walking from a workplace to the subway, past all the happy hours (or dinners if I stayed late), has a certain liberating feeling to it. During COVID, that walk is replaced by a walk around the neighbourhood or a delicious home-cooked meal.

Work record: 9-6

Record so far: 18-8

PLAY: Enjoy the day

27. Take pictures - YES

My phone is loaded with pictures, ranging from interesting street signs to macro flowers. Here's one from two days ago:

Doesn't that scene make you feel mindful? This is in downtown Toronto, no less.

28. Use music - YES

I've rated over 3,000 albums on Rate Your Music. I have a Spotify Premium account, an iHome speaker, and a Smart TV I can use as a gigantic speaker. As I mentioned in #20 above, I'm listening to music while I write this entry.

My general guide to genres of music listened to during different tasks:

Anything lyric-focused (e.g.: hip hop, vocal jazz): cleaning

Lyrical, but the music is the focus (e.g.: most rock music): cooking, blogging

Mostly instrumental (e.g.: death metal, black metal): writing non-fiction

Totally instrumental (e.g.: ambient, electronic, drone): writing fiction

29. Go for a walk - YES

As I mentioned in #6 above, walking is my lighter form of exercise. I've walked to various points in Toronto, Edmonton and Houston that have taken me surprisingly far from home, sometimes as long as an hour in each direction. Walking really far and then taking transit back is also an option.

30. Create something - YES

As over eight years of this blog should show, I can't stop creating things. I even make charts of moral and practical aspects of life sometimes.

31. Engage with your children - YES

I'm cheating here, but whenever I've had a cat or a dog, I engage with him extensively. Playtime is all the time with our furry friends! I have no human children, although I tend to get along with them.

32. Get outside - YES

I was writing this entry outside until the sun's glare forced me into the living room. Some of my favourite memories involving climbing hills or discovering paths. One notable example is my ascent of the Grouse Grind back in October 2018. I finished in an unimpressive 1:18 (i.e. 78 minutes) because, as a first-time participant, I simply had to stop to take pictures so often. See #27 above.

33. Visit a museum - YES

I have a membership to the Royal Ontario Museum. I've seen dozens of regular and special exhibits there, to the point that I can recommend individual artifacts to first-timers and tourists.

34. Travel with curiosity and wonder - YES

Although my travel has been hampered in 2020 due to COVID, I have a long history of travel. I'v been to eight European countries and approximately half of the continental US states, as well as the Bahamas. Wherever I go, I seek out old parts of cities, museums, art galleries, roads people don't usually take, and, of course, food.

Play record: 8-0 (I must be really playful!)

Record so far: 26-8

LOVE: Enrich the day

35. Welcome one another - YES

Anyone I see when I get home gets a warm welcome. I smile too - no matter how bad my day's been, the bad part's over and the good part's just beginning.

36. Love yourself - YES

I think my interests are really interesting. (Don't we all?) From my favourite sports teams to my homemade hot sauce, I surround myself with the things I find interesting. I swear, my friends do too... some of them... sometimes.

Here's a 10-ounce bottle from my latest batch of my signature bird's eye chili sauce:

37. See your loved ones with fresh eyes - NO

38. Forgive from the heart - NO

These can be addressed together. I have a long and detailed memory. Everything gets added to it.

39. Choose generosity - YES

I rarely hesitate to buy a gift for a friend or to donate (time or money, or both) to a worthy cause. This often means either youth mental health (see the RBC race from #6 above) or Toronto Cat Rescue.

40. Touch with presence - YES

Every contact, from a kiss down to a socially distanced COVID-influenced greeting,*** receives the mindfulness it deserves from me.

41. Gather your posse - NO

Despite being a dedicated ENTJ with a lot of friends, I'm solitary a lot of the time. Some of my favourite activities, like reading or cooking, simply lend themselves best to having one person take the helm. (I'll never complain if someone offers to help chop veggies though!)

42. Be open to grief - YES

In flagrant contradiction to #21 above, grief is one of those few times there's an unavoidably bad emotion that just needs to be let out.

Love record: 5-3

Record so far: 31-11

HOME: End the Day

43. Transition peacefully from day to evening - YES

Rinse and repeat #12 above when the subway isn't full. I can get my reading in while being underground and thus out of cellphone or internet range. If the subway is full, a quick walk is a peaceful transition.

44. Clear your home for calm and joy - NO

Although I am a fierce declutterer, it's a war without end. If my home were that clear, I wouldn't have to declutter so many times.

45. Cultivate hygge at home - YES

Hygge, the Dano-Norwegian concept of everything being just right in a cozy way, is a warm blanket on my soft but firm couch. I've loved blankets since before I could say the phrase "I love blankets".

46. Cook with your senses - YES

Sight: the rainbow of colours I arrange for the evening's stir-fry.

Hearing: the sizzle of veggies as they hit the pan.

Smell: the permeation of sliced garlic cloves into the cozy air of my kitchen.

Taste: the punch of bird's eye chili peppers (see #36 above) meets the salt of soy sauce.

Touch: the texture of tender chicken breast complemented by the satisfying crunch of a carrot slice.

47. Savor eating - YES

Although I frequently eat in front of sports or movies (see #20 above), it never detracts from the experience. I don't "eat like the French" as Cameron recommends; I eat like a proud Canadian who enjoyed visiting Paris but prefers to integrate good food into my faster-paced life.

48. Sip evening tea - YES

As with exercise (see #6 above), my tea consumption occurs at various points throughout the day. I make a pot of (usually) noncaffeinated tea (my go-to in 2020 is lime ginger mint), let it steep for a while, and then fill my glass carafe with it. Into the fridge for a few hours and then I have delicious iced tea. I never add sugar.

49. Create a bedtime routine - NO

As with #10 above, such a rigid routine would turn me into the human equivalent of a German shepherd left home all day who tears up the couch.

50. Ease into sleep - NO

Sometimes I fall asleep easily. At other times, I can toss and turn for hours. Sometimes it's technology-related (which would likely make Cameron scold me, as she wants us all to unplug from our devices), sometimes because I feel too hot,**** sometimes because I'm lost in my thoughts.

Home (2) score: 5-3

Home (combined) score: 14-7

Final score: 36-14 (.720)

Weighing each criterion the same, I am apparently 72% mindful.

I'd put down my Pixel 3 more often, but I use it as a combined clock, newspaper and Fitbit. Knowing the time, or being able to know the time, is central to my day.

Speaking of which, the centre of the day is almost upon us. Now for a mindful lunch.

Ease of Reading: 10

Educational Content: 3

*Cameron draws more from Buddhist thought than from Christian thought in The Mindful Day, making this an example of a true cross-religious shared concept.

**My ticket was to Ithaca, New York, which is beautiful in its own right, and where I was living at the time. I can't say I really lost out here.

***I saluted a friend last month. I think all of us who live on bodies of water should all do this instead of namaste. It's so much more naval.

****The only times I've ever had difficulty sleeping due to the cold were during a camping trip in Upstate New York in 2012 and during the ice storm that hit Toronto in 2013. See #45 above: when a blanket is available, I get under it.