Eastbound, Bloor and Bay
Black woman, mid 30s, with long dark hair, wearing floral silk jacket, and grey dress pants.
The man beside her wears a long buckskin jacket with fringes lining the bottom, the back of his arms, and in the shape of a V across his chest and back. He’s in his late 50s, face worn, a shock of spiky bleached-blonde hair growing out at the roots. He hunches over his cupped hand, pinching marijuana sticks and twigs into as fine a powder as possible. He looks up at each stop, squinting at each passerby, then going back to the task at hand. Another man boards and stands over him. His skin is baby smooth, tanned. He wears a pressed shirt under a high collar, half-zipped, Jacquard pullover, a tweed cap cocked to the side. He considers his reflection, bumping the elbow of the seated man who yells, “Hey, Buddy! I don’t got all the room in the world!” The dapper man kneels down to eye level and speaks in a low voice. “Hey, brother. I didn’t mean to get in your space. I’m sorry. We good, friend?” The seated man reverts to a child, pressing his knees together, and turning his weight toward the woman reading beside him. He mumbles back over his shoulder, “Yah, man. We’re good. I just don’t got all the room in the world.”
What was she reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. Follow Julie on Twitter @seenreading, and @bookmadam where she runs a monthly contest with McNally Robinson.
Caucasian woman, mid 20s, with blonde hair, clipped up, wearing red pea coat, white leather purse, and grey UGGs.
A man and woman board at Broadview and stand in front of the reader. He stares at the ads, squinting, flexing his jaw in concentration. The woman looks at him closely, studying the subtle changes in expression. Their faces are deeply tanned, their cheeks and noses a bright red. He can feel her looking and nods a little, puffing up his lips to signal what, he’s not sure; something to suggest it’s only him. Knowing better, he turns to face her, tight-lipped, rolling his eyes. He’s tired. That’s all. He smirks and goes back to looking at the ads, his gaze turning to the cover of the book before him. He grips the woman’s hand, their fingers folding loosely into one another’s. She rests her head on his shoulder. He places his cheek against her hair and closes his eyes. Something had been decided before boarding, perhaps confirmed during their day of ease and sunshine. When friendship turned into something more.
What was she reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. Follow Julie on Twitter @seenreading, and @bookmadam where she runs a monthly contest with McNally Robinson.
Spadina streetcar
Asian male, early 30s, wearing pressed beige dress pants, black t-shirt, and spotless black sneakers, carrying a black computer bag with pink ribbon pinned to the pocket.
The edges of the ribbon are frayed, its colour faded from the blush of spring rose petals to chalky candy hearts. His fatigue peaks out from pressure points: the throbbing vein in his temple, the rapid rise and fall of his T-shirt, his wrists unable to hold the book high and tight. He could replace the ribbon, get something permanent, shiny, something that won’t tear or thread, something precious and delicate that will only expire if dented or shattered, that can’t be punctured, that can’t absorb filth or accidents, something unlike illness, or real living.
What was he reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. @seenreading
Southbound, Spadina streetcar
Caucasian male, early 40s, with short grey hair and beard, wearing glasses, blue collared shirt under black fleece, and carrying a leather book bag.
The young woman beside him is falling asleep. He shifts to accommodate her bobbing head, the worn faux fur of her second hand coat brushing against his chin. He lifts the cord of her headphones away from his bag’s buckle and pivots to face a new wave of passengers crowding the back of the streetcar. He comes nose to waist of a pair of jeans that bear the deep, rumpled creases of one who only had enough change for the washer. He squeaks his book between himself and the stranger, the type too close to read. Staring out from the edges, he braces for the long haul.
What was he reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. @seenreading
Westbound, Bloor and Broadview
Caucasian woman, early 60s, with short blonde hair, wearing glasses, tan coat, white collared shirt, and pale green silk scarf.
We’ve been in the tunnel for five minutes. A young mother has let her child go to the front, where he presses his face inside cupped hands, eyes adjusting to the dark, bobbing headlamps crossing in the distance like the fireflies of his summers at the cottage. The woman is reading. The woman beside her watches a telenovela on a portable player — Malhação or Patito Feo, she wouldn’t know. The passengers are getting tense. Five minutes and the train shows no signs of moving. The banter from the soap opera is rapid fire, the audio hollow and far away, like tiny people yelling inside a tin can. We are in a tin can. What would our voices sound like from the next station? How much longer before they’d talk to one another? She looks over the forearm of the woman, then out past the child. He’s jumping on one foot, hands stuffed into his back pockets.
What was she reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. @seenreading
Westbound, Bloor and Christie
South Asian male, with short brown hair and labret piercing, wearing glasses, grey hoodie under black fleece, low black jeans, and black Converse sneakers.
He removes his glasses and rubs his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. He lets his head fall, chin to his chest, book falling open limp on his knee. He shifts a bit and rights himself, squinting at an ad across the aisle. He nods, not because he agrees, but because he’s talking to someone, some past conversation, maybe from this morning, more likely from late the night before. He shakes his head now. His point wasn’t taken. He puts his glasses back on, and cocks his head to the side, taking in the contents under the seat adjacent to him: a Fairlee bottle emptied of its 100% Pure/Pur orange juice from concentrate. He reads everything. Posters. Logos. He swivels to look overhead. Call us at XXX-XXX-XXX. His lips never stop moving.
What was he reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. @seenreading
Swan Restaurant
East Indian woman, mid 20s, with long brown hair, and large silver hoops, wearing white tank top under open blue striped shirt under open blue cardigan.
She sits at the counter, perched on a stool close to the front window. She leans over her book, hand resting on the back of her neck. She sits back as the server slides a tallboy of Guinness in front of her with a glass. She starts to pour, slowly, and puts the can down at the halfway point. She’s worked in a bar. Out of habit, she’s leaving the beer to settle. She keeps hold of the can and glass and looks outside. An older man edges his car back and forth, rolling back a foot, then popping into drive and coasting forward. She turns back to her tallboy, pouring the rest of her beer in a slow stream, enough time to check in on the old man who’s still running his car back and forth, something to do while he waits for his passenger, she might think, something he does this so slowly that the young guy who steps off the curb to cross the street doesn’t feel the bumper until he’s sitting on the trunk gripping the window louvers. He slides off the back and throws his arms up, his tight dress shirt spilling from his tight dress pants to reveal a tattoo circling his navel. She pushes the can aside and takes a long drink from her beer, three swallows, before turning back to her book.
What was she reading? Click here.
Julie Wilson is a literary voyeur, the Gossip Girl of the Book World. She tracks readers in the wild at SeenReading.com. @seenreading
A new blog on reading, literature, and the book industry, by Julie Wilson, auhtor and novelist
An introduction.
On my way to work, I see people reading. In coffee shops, on transit. Standing at a stoplight, a reader will cross my path, book wide open. Because, by nature, I’m curious; because, by profession, I work in publishing; and, because, by compulsion, I want to understand the cult of readership — this card carrying, freak flag flying international membership that exists at once alone in bed, in groups, and in flourishing online communities — I watch you read.
8:45 a.m. on a weekday morning. There are no fewer than 20-30 reader sightings on my commute into downtown Toronto. As we inch our way aboard the Red Rocket, you sit beside me. You’re reading Summer of My Amazing Luck by Miriam Toews. You’re very close, so I know you’re on page 87. While we ride, I learn other things about you. Some are obvious. That you’re a man or woman is without question. But that ring is interesting, or the scar above your left eyebrow. You continue to read.
The intersection between reader and a precise piece of text fascinates me. This reader may have started the book the night before in one location, to pick it up again in another. In between, the world has changed a little, or a lot. So has she. What words, right then, I can’t help but wonder, are revealing themselves for the first time? (The tenth time?) How do they traverse the divide between constructed narrative and lived experience? I go to the bookstore, into the stacks, and pull the title from the shelves. (more…)
The Walrus HOOPP Pension Debate
Be It Resolved That Canadians Are Incapable
of Saving for Their Retirement Needs Alone
12 pm, Wednesday, May 30 at
Hart House Debate Room, Toronto
The Walrus Glenbow Debate
Calgary’s Cowboy Culture:
Living Legacy or Just History?
6:30 pm, Thursday, June 7 at
Epcor Centre: Max Bell Theatre, Calgary
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