homelessness – a day in the (reading) life

True crime? Yes, I suppose so, but closer to reportage than sensationalism. With the murder of Tina Fontaine, BBC journalist Joanna Jolly takes on a disturbing subject: the numbers of raped, murdered and missing indigenous women in Canada. Folks outside of Canada may be oblivious, but the problem is such that Justin Trudeau, upon becoming Prime Minister, promised and implemented an initiative to focus on the issue. And in truth, victim-blaming obscures the problem, for, you see, many indigenous women who come to cities such as Vancouver and Winnipeg (where Fontaine’s death occurred) become involved in drugs and the sex trade – risky, vulnerable lives, low priority lives that, unfortunately, are too easily dismissed.

Tina Fontaine was only fifteen years old, looked much younger, and had been reared on a First Nations reserve by an aunt who loved her. Like many teenagers, she wanted to spread her wings a bit and came to Winnipeg in hopes of establishing a relationship with her mother. Her mother, however, was nowhere to be found, but Tina stayed anyway and was soon on the streets. For about a month. Then somebody killed her. Dumped her in the Red River. Wrapped in a floral duvet cover. That’s a jarring note, isn’t it? A duvet cover. I don’t have a duvet cover or a duvet to cover for that matter, but someone did. Probably Tina’s killer. Probably a psychopath. With a duvet cover. Strange.

Of course, Richard Cormier, her accused killer, is strange – a cagey, articulate man with a taste for very young women and a thing for Tina that he can’t stop talking about. He supports himself and supplies his meth habit by stealing scrap metal, copper wiring and bicycles. Living rough, looking stringy. And, if you listen closely, you may hear the jingle jangle of loose screws as he walks by. But did he kill Tina? Winnipeg homicide detective John O’Donovan doggedly pursues Cormier, even setting up an elaborate and costly “Mr. Big” sting operation, but he can only build a circumstantial case against the suspect. If you’re not familiar with the term, “Mr. Big” is an investigative ploy that actually originated in Canada. It’s been banned in some countries as entrapment, and is restricted even in Canada, but O’Donovan’s version reads like a novel, and the case becomes a cause. Is there justice for Tina? For any of these women? Well, you know how it is. You know what they say. It’s complicated. But you can read and we can hope.

Shop your local indie bookstore for this one, Joanna Jolly’s compelling non-fiction debut.

Full Disclosure: A review copy of this book was provided to me by Penguin Random House Canada / Viking via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. I would like to thank the publisher, the author and NetGalley for providing me this opportunity. All opinions expressed herein are my own.

A noted author of essays and criticism, Marin Sardy is the daughter and sister of schizophrenics, her mother and her brother Tom. Although her mother was never officially diagnosed, doctors suggested that she did have some form of schizophrenia, and, to Marin, her mother was stolen by this “shapeless thief”. The earlier parts of the book explore schizophrenia in a way that feels rather loosely connected, and indeed, portions of this book were previously published as essays: personal experiences, effects on families, a possible link to creativity, David Bowie and Ms. Sardy’s own wardrobe choices. However, as the book nears its central story, that of her brother Tom, its earlier disjointedness seems purposeful, a mimicking of the “episodic, fragmented, gaping” effect of schizophrenia itself. Life to a schizophrenic is described as “a series of stills”.

Tom’s story is heartbreaking, and that is neither trite nor a cliche, no. No other statement does justice. Robbed of all hope and promise, homeless on the streets of Anchorage, in and out of our inadequate mental health care systems, loved helplessly by family and friends who shelter him when possible and search endlessly for resources, solutions, help of any kind. Ultimately, Ms. Sardy relates a personal experience with a baby raven as a way to tell us that “…sometimes, ceremony is the only resolution we can have.” A deeply moving and thought-provoking reading experience. Available in May wherever books are sold, or click the following link to pre-order at Amazon.com: The Edge of Every Day: Sketches of Schizophrenia

Full Disclosure: A review copy of this book was provided to me by Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group / Pantheon via NetGalley. I would like to thank the publisher and the author for providing me this opportunity. All opinions expressed herein are my own.