8. The Main: Portrait of a Neighbourhood

By Edward Hillel

I came across Edward Hilel’s The Main quite by chance, really.  My daughter has known her BFF since daycare. BFF’s parents are now separated, but they have a circle of friends who regularly hang out at Parc du Bullion, drinking beer and McAdams cider.  They’re comprised of parents from the neighbourhood and/or people who frequented the Parc JM softball games and/or the dep on Duluth and Clark.  

 

Hubs and I are not super social with them, but we’d sometimes hang out there when the girls are together, and the BFF’s parents would often bring their charcoal grill and host BBQs to celebrate a family member’s birthday.  This last time, we got together for a Sunday Easter egg hunt at the park. 

Long-haired Craig showed up and brought along a hardbound book of black and white photographs  titled The Main, which immediately piqued my interest, though somehow the book ended up in Olman’s hands first.  While he was flipping through the pages, Craig was saying how he'd just found it on the street - someone was apparently moving and left a bunch of stuff on the sidewalk.  I remarked how the book was in such good condition and what a nice find.  Craig seemed very pleased. When I finally got to leaf through the book, I admired the slice-of-life photos of Plateau life circa the mid 1980s with St-Laurent Boulevard, aka The Main, as the anchor.  And how fitting that we're all situated in the Plateau!

I mentioned how I love black and white street photography, and how this book reminded me of Robert Frank’s work.  Why hadn’t I heard of this book before?  Craig asked if I’d ever seen a Diane Arbus exhibit, and I was hell, yes, back in 2003 when SFMOMA held a major retrospective of Arbus’ work.  I remember this well because that was when I first spent the Christmas holidays with my future parent-in-laws and was just getting to know them.  One morning after breakfast, we were in the kitchen discussing what we’d do that day, and it was brought up that we’d all go see the Diane Arbus Revelations show at SFMOMA.  I literally gasped out loud.  OMG!  I was a big admirer of Arbus' work, had never laid eyes on her original prints before, and there was a major retrospective of her work and my in-laws want to go see it?!  These are my people!

I also mentioned that the Musee des Beaux Arts had a Diane Arbus exhibit recently, but Craig kind of waved it off as it was so small.  He had seen her show in New York several years ago. Anyway, when I got home later that day, I looked up The Main, which seemed to have languished in obscurity and has been long out of print.  On AbeBooks, I found the same hardbound edition in great condition at a Westmount bookstore (that only had an online presence) for $30 USD with $10 shipping.  It arrived about a week later.  I now have my own copy of The Main, which is in slightly better condition than Greg’s.

The Main was a marvellous time capsule of my neighbourhood that doesn’t really exist anymore due to the inevitable societal shifts and gentrification.  The Plateau used to be known as a working-class neighbourhood of immigrants, namely Jewish, Portuguese, and Greek.  Rent was cheap, and due to its central location, the Plateau was also a haven for university students, artists and musicians.  It’s most famous residents were Mordecai Richler and Leonard Cohen. Even back when I first visited the Plateau in the 1990’s there was already some gentrification taking place.  It wasn’t until Ubisoft moved into the Peck Building and the sudden rise of local indie bands like Arcade Fire did the Plateau/Mile End become a “hot” neighbourhood.  

Over the years, many of the original residents have moved on, either to the suburbs or more affordable areas.  The rent and housing prices have driven many artists away.   But there are still traces and fragments here and there.  Portuguese rotisseries and restaurants still abound, and the bagel shops and Jewish establishments like Cheskie’s and Beauty’s remain steadfast institutions.  But it has lost a lot of its original working-class roots and artistic edginess, becoming a well-to-do area that attracts French nationals and affluent professionals.

A couple of summers ago, my daughter had a big yard sale, and these Portuguese ladies came by to chat with me, saying they used to live in our apartment years ago.  They now live in the West Island, but they love to come back to their old neighbourhood to shop (they had just come from le Patisserie Lawrence V.).  Sure, there are still older Jewish, Portuguese and Chinese residents here, but many, like these ladies, have moved to the suburbs over the years.

In any case, I recognized so many familiar locations via Hillel's photos.  This one with the woman sitting by the Virginia Woolf portrait is the alley where I live!  Where that chain link fence used to be is our parking area. 

There was one photo taken from the lobby interior of what was then known as the Peck Building, but the portico entrance looked familiar, and I thought how much it looked like the Ubisoft building.  The text mentioned that the building was located on the corner of St-Laurent Blvd and St-Viateur - so I was right!

 

There were many great street photos:  one with Charcuterie Hongroise (still going, but for how much  longer?) and Charcuterie Fairmount (RIP).

Berson & Sons Monuments, one of the oldest landmarks on The Main, was replaced by an ugly new condo building about a decade ago.

Author/artist Edward Hillel himself has evolved into a multi-disciplinary artist based in New York now.  While I was googling him, I realized I had missed out on a very cool 2017 exhibit at The Museum of Jewish Montreal right in the Plateau!  It included never-before-seen contact sheets - all the negatives that did and didn't make the cut for the The Main.

The St-Laurent merchants' association commissioned Hillel, now based in New York, to return to the Plateau and create a new series of colour photos documenting the boulevard, 30 years after The Main was published.  Apparently, Hillel was gratified to find some of his old haunts still intact.

Argh!!  If only I had known about this back then!  What a missed opportunity!  

18. Generation Loss

By Elizabeth Hand

I first heard of Elizabeth Hand when her strange fantasy novel Winterlong ended up in my youthful possession.  The cover looked cool.  But after a few chapters, it didn’t do much for me, so I shelved it for years.  Unfortunately, this book can no longer be found.

Don't know if Generaion Loss is Hand’s first foray into the crime genre.   On Goodreads, a well-known crime author listed GL as one of his/her fave crime novels, featuring a punk photographer cum amateur investigator. That really intrigued me.

Hardened yet vulnerable, Cass Neary stumbles and mumbles her way through the story, pocketing other people’s meds along the way, never failing to keep a bottle of Jack Daniels hidden in the her worn leather jacket.  She constantly steals, sometimes for no reason other than to temporarily fuck up someone else.  What’s not to like? 

Generation Loss was also the first winner of the Shirley Jackson Award for outstanding achievement in psychological suspense, horror and the dark fantastic.  Not surprised. The opening paragraph even references Diane Arbus. I'm so in.

I thought that Generation Loss shared many similarities with The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo, which was published posthumously in 2005.  Generation Loss came out in 2007.  No idea if Hand had read Stig Larsson’s international bestseller, but the plot seems stamped from the exact same template.

[SPOILERS] 

Cassandra Neary is a has-been photographer; Mikael Blomkvist a disgraced journalist.  Cass is a big-time fuck up; Mikael fucked up big time. 

Cass does not have a side kick, but like Lisbeth, she is a rape survivor and the damage inflicted from that continues to haunt her and define some of her actions.

Decades later, burnt-out and broke, Cass gets a gig interviewing a reclusive retired legendary photographer, and a former idol of hers; Mikael is offered an opportunity to write a book for a former captain of industry and interviews his aging reclusive relatives.  The interviewees in both novels are extremely unpleasant. 

There is a missing girl involved in both novels that prompts the ‘investigation’. 

Both protagonists journey to a remote village in the middle of nowhere during the cold winter. 

They meet various characters and gradually get drawn into the town gossip and its sordid histories. 

Both protagonists get drawn into the lair of the killer, which is located in an even more remote part of that remote area. 

The killer is lucid but utterly off his rocker, and both have a victim held hostage when they are discovered. 

The differences: 

Cass is a washed out, damaged piece of work, always looking for a way to escape sobriety;  Mikael is none of those things.

Meditations on photography and art – a key factor that elevates Generation Loss and one of the reasons why it’s a cult novel. It name drops many outsider artists and figures from the legendary NYC punk scene. 

Dennis Ahearn's insanity was caused by mercury & cyanide poisoning from the photochemicals used to process his bizarre daguerrotypes and elaborate rituals; Martin Vanger’s derangement stemmed from his psychopathic father and when he came into his own as a serial killer, he did away with his dad’s elaborate symbolic rituals. 

Themes and things that I liked in the novel:  

That photographers have a way of seeing things that ordinary people don’t.  Cass Neary was once full of unrealized and raw potential with “remarkable if totally useless” gifts.  

     And, just as I knew the first photo was by Aphrodite, I knew this one had been taken by a man. Phil used to make fun of me for claiming I could identify a photographer, no matter how obscure, by his or her image. He ranked on me even worse when I once drunkenly announced I could identify the gender of a bunch of unknowns whose pictures hung at a small gallery in DUMBO.

      But I did it. I nailed every single one.

     “That’s amazing, Cass,” Phil said. “Another remarkable if totally useless skill.”

     Even now, I couln’i tell you how it works. It’s like me picking up damage, like there’s a smell there, or a subliminal taste. And you’d thank that would be an easy call to make with this picture, because it sure looked like it would taste like cheesecake.

[I personally like to think I have remarkable if totally useless skills.  Take the Auto Motion setting in flat screen televisions, for instance.  I was at a friend’s house watching TV and I could immediately tell that Auto Motion was on.  I tried to show her the difference between having that setting off and on, but try as she might, she couldn’t tell the difference at all.  The difference I saw was like day and night.  An older memory was my high school photography class, back when we had darkrooms and shot on black and white film. We had a test where our teaacher would show slides of well-known works from the canonized photographers.  I was able to nail all one hundred of them and correctly identify the Atgets, Cartier-Bressons, Langes, and Franks.  Suffice to say, Mr. Booker was impressed.] 

This novel also reminded me of another book I recently read, the vastly inferior Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. This is mostly due to the mad artist-serial killers who would murder then incorporate dead bodies into their art.  Generation Loss would have made a good antidote to the unsatisfying and mediocre Broken Monsters.  

However, patience is also needed for Generation Loss as it’s a slow burn all the way to the climactic ending.  The bulk of it is psychological and character-driven with a gradual build up.   And if you don’t like the protagonist, you’re done for – because the reader will get submerged, if not drowned, in Cass’s internal fucked up psyche. 

All in all this was a great book to end the year with.  It may be flawed, but it's flawed in a great way.

I was also pleased that Olman found the original hardback for Xmas, from Dark Carnival, I believe.