Thomas Frank’s latest screed, a book I had reserved months ago from the library in the well-to-do Anglo canton of Westmount, became available this week. I’m currently taking a self-imposed hiatus from my bicycle, due to a periodic flare-up of an old knee injury, so I resigned myself to giving up my afternoon yesterday travelling there by public transit. I left the bus and dodged late model Audis to reach the hundred year old building, its adjoining gardens resplendent in the light afternoon rain. Having already read this month’s Mother Jones and Maisonneuve on a previous visit to pick up The Rebel Sell, I rewarded my efforts by settling into a thickly padded chair with the current Harper’s for an hour before returning home. While transferring from bus to the Villa-Maria metro shortly thereafter, I realized that years ago I had gone for a walk in freshly fallen snow at a park just around the corner from where I now stood with Nikita and Justyna, which I think completes the piecing together of my memories of Montréal from visits over the years with my current knowledge of the city. I looked out from my vantage point on the misty hillside and enjoyed the view and nostalgia for a moment before descending to the platform.
This week, my favourite online bookstore started selling Harry Potter VI for $13 USD, which reminded me of previous intentions to re-read the first five books before starting this new one. I only discovered the series when book five was published, and a friend talked me into reading book one to better understand what the fuss was about. I ended up devouring them all in a week, a very pleasant way to pass the time. But I’m still not even finished with Rebel Sell. I have my reading cut out for me now if I want to be ready when book six arrives in my mailbox early next week.