In the Skin of a Lion (Fri. Apr. 22, 2:00-3:00)

[Book Buzz]

Hello! This is just a reminder that our next meeting is scheduled for Fri. Apr. 22 on Jitsi. If you would still like to register, you can do so at the following link:

https://www.eventbrite.ca/e/toronto-i...

I really liked this book! As a Publisher’s Weekly review put it, Ondaatje is “a spellbinding writer [who] exhibits a poet's sensibility and care for the precise, illuminating word… Ondaatje everywhere uses "a spell of language" to spin his brilliantly evoked tale.” In particular, I loved Ondaatje’s portrayal of the construction of the Bloor Viaduct and the R.C. Harris Water Treatment Plant. His writings brought these monuments to life vividly and poetically, as powerful symbols of Toronto’s industrial past. In particular, the Viaduct was invested with new meaning for me as I listened to the story on audiobook while crossing on the subway each day, imagining Nicholas Temelcoff swinging beneath the steel arches below, or bridge workers crossing the deck in darkness holding candles in memory of those who had died.

The book made me wonder: how many workers actually died building the Viaduct? I searched the Toronto Star Historical Newspaper Archive for stories of workers who had died building the Viaduct, but came up empty. The headlines of these times were dominated by stories of local WWI soldiers who had been killed in action, were missing in action, or had returned home; or people dying of the 1918 Flu Pandemic (27 reported in Toronto on Oct. 18 alone), medical officials complaining of overcrowded streetcars, and of dance halls, theatres and churches closing. When the bridge was opened, a front page story about it complained that automobiles were requisitioned from the Department of Public Health for the Mayor’s official opening of the Bloor-Danforth Viaduct, hindering emergency visits to Spanish Flu patients. But I found no mention of the workers who had died building the bridge.

It is hard to imagine, given the poor safety standards of the time, that the Bloor Viaduct had such an immaculate safety record. By comparison, 137 workers died building the Welland Canal, and 9 workers died building the Bloor-Danforth subway. Rather, these men, many of them poor immigrant labourers, were simply not worthy of mention or memorial to the journalists and city officials of the time.

On the other hand, the Viaduct, and the R.C. Harris Water Treatment Plant, are also symbols of the ingenuity and foresight of city officials of the time. The water treatment plant helped end water shortages and increase access to clean drinking water. And as one article about R.C. Harris says, “The viaduct contained a lower deck capable of holding trains, which weren't introduced until 48 years after its construction, and the filtration plant had embedded piping and extra rooms in anticipation of expansion.” It is remarkable that both continue to fulfil pivotal roles in the infrastructure of this city, with the water treatment plant still providing 30% of the city’s water.

However, behind the Viaduct and the “Palace of Purification” lies a darker side, a side unacknowledged and perhaps lost to history. Ondaatje brings this tension to life in his fictional confrontation between Harris and Lewis:

“You watch, in fifty years they’re going to come here and gape at the herringbone and the copper roofs. We need excess, something to live up to. I fought tooth and nail for that herringbone.”

“You fought. You fought. Think about those who built the intake tunnels. Do you know how many of us died in there?”

“There was no record kept.”

What do you think? Was Harris a villain, or hero, or both? Was Ondaatje’s portrayal too negative? What were your thoughts about the rest of the story? Feel free to leave a comment below.

I’ve also included a link to an optional discussion guide with more reviews, discussion questions and historical background. I look forward to seeing you all next Friday!

Link to Discussion Guide:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1J...

[Nick]

Hi everyone,

Thanks for joining today! We talked a lot about the Epic of Gilgamesh, which is quoted in the epigraph, and the source of the title of the book:

"The joyful will stoop with sorrow, and when you have gone to the earth I will let my hair grow long for your sake, I will wander through the wilderness in the skin of a lion."

In this quote the character Gilgamesh is overcome by sorrow at the death of his friend Enkidu. I found a very interesting article in the New Yorker about the history of the Epic, which also provides an excellent (and often humorous) plot summary. Here is the link, as well as a quote in case you are interested:

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/20...

"[After the death of Enkidu] Gilgamesh is assailed by a new grief: he, too, must die. This frightens him to his very core, and it becomes the subject of the remainder of the poem. Can he find a way to avoid death?

He flees Uruk and clothes himself in animal skins. First he goes to the mountain where the sun rises and sets. It is guarded by two scorpions. Gilgamesh explains to them that he is seeking Uta-napishti, the one man, he has heard, who became immortal. The scorpions grant him entry to a tunnel that the sun passes through each night. But if he wants to get through it he must outpace the sun. He starts out and, in utter, enfolding darkness, he runs. He can see nothing behind him or ahead of him. This goes on for hours and hours. In the end, he beats the sun narrowly, emerging into a garden where the fruits on the trees are jewels..."

Perhaps Patrick's time in darkness digging the intake tunnel alludes to this part of the Epic? As well as Patrick's appearance in the Garden of the Blind after setting fire to the Muskoka hotel?

What do you think of the article? Do you see any other parallels between the Epic of Gilgamesh and In the Skin of a Lion? Feel free to leave a comment below!