I’m happy to report to all well-wishers that the young man has regained his famous sense of humour, if not his handsome face. The police called to tell him that they had two guys in custody who had attacked someone else just for fun. But they bit half of this victim’s ear off. Happily my son has both his ears intact. He has to identify the two, but he thinks from what the cops have said that they’re not the same guys. Pretty scary – gangs of punchers and ear-biters roaming the mean streets – shades of “Clockwork Orange,” in sweet little Toronto.
Speaking of films, the Film Festival continues out there, and all I know about it and its hundreds of films are the pictures of movie stars in the newspaper. In my many years in Toronto, I have never even figured out how to get tickets, let alone lined up for hours to see things. To me, it’s too much like work. But my dear friend Suzette gave me two tickets to a gala on Sunday night, to see “The Duchess,” with Ralph Fiennes, Keira Knightley and the fabulous Charlotte Rampling.
The gala part was fun, getting all dressed up and tottering in my high heels down the path to Roy Thompson Hall surrounded by the plebs who couldn’t get in – ah, the good life. And Keira and Ralph were both there – Kiera the definition of “a slip of a thing,” weighing about 17 pounds with no breasts at all, and fans screaming her name as she hid behind her hair.
But the movie was far, far more than I expected. Truly stunning – a feast for the eye, mind and heart, beautifully written, shot, directed. It’s a complex story with echoes of Diana, Princess of Wales. I’d see it again just to look at the richness of the fabrics – the curtains, furniture, rugs, clothing. But the writing and acting are superb too.
I am wearing socks! And a sweater, and gradually moving my skimpy linen things to the spare closet, piling on more blankets, closing the bedroom windows bit by bit, wondering where the air conditioner cover is, things like that. BUT – I am also still eating peaches. At the Riverdale market, one farmer is still selling them, the last ones. I’m desperately hanging onto summer.
But teaching has begun too, the final sign that the reality of fall is here: my Ryerson course started on Monday. A full, full class of eager writers – always a joy to see. Because of them, I don’t mind socks. And yesterday, at No Frills, I bought a can of peaches.
