Name: Scarborough
ISBN: 9781551526775

Catherine Hernandez

A poignant multi-voiced novel about the troubled yet noble lives of urban warriors living in low-income neighborhoods.

Scarborough

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"Isn't it a job to do saintly things while you're alive?" "No one pays for saintliness, anak"

My tears were finally unleashed in the dramatic fashion of Filipino mourning, like lacerating a boil so the infection could heal. I remember as a young child watching, for the first time, the novena being recited in honour of my uncle's death. The repetition, the sorrow expressed in every rosary bead, the pouty-faced Mother Marys at every turn of the page in the novena prayer book were enough to make one wail. And that was the point. Just short of sCreaming at the deceased, we were, as a community, telling Tito Ferdie to leave us. Leave us behind, look forward into Gods embrace, and walk. Walk far away from us. Even though in our hearts, we wanted the person to be alive, we knew that if we didn’t encourage the spirit to pass into the after life, it would linger, and it would worry about us.

So I cried. I cried until my cries turned to wails. The louder, the better. Go, Daddy. Go and walk. To the other side where you will feel better. It felt right to treat his parting like a deaths It was the death of everything I knew.

Hakim, still on his knees, crept forward. His wet mittens grabbed bold of my hood, and he kissed me. His cheeks were cold. His nose was snotty. But it was like a movie kiss, with his head turning side to side, his tongue twisting here and there. I was motionless, burning inside, not wanting it to end. Then he pulled away from me suddenly and returned to digging. I was too busy hearing music in my head to wonder at the hard- ness under my snow pants. I almost died in the arms of the boy I love, I thought to myself. We almost died doing what was dangerous, forbidden. I didn't need to be a saint any longer. I was a secret-keeper from now on.

“I know, I know. I hear everything youre saying, and that is damn hard" "Hey, look at me. You are going to take this one breath at a time. Soon you'll be lying down, wondering how you'll get through the nght, but you will. You will. And tomorrow is a new day."

"The secret is to let the string go into the wind. You gotta feel with your hands when the moment is right, and let go."

This was my son. Beyond sainthood. Beyond Jesus. Beyond survival. Beyond lipstick. Beyond singing in the mirror. This was my son. My beautiful child.

This book broke my heart and filled it with hope.

Reminded me a bit of The Killing Jar by Nicola Monaghan in parts - but a Canadian version. 

Anisah Osman Britton

This book broke my heart and filled it with hope.

Reminded me a bit of The Killing Jar by Nicola Monaghan in parts - but a Canadian version. 

This book hit a little too close to home- although, I shouldn’t be surprised as I grew up in Scarborough. 

I’ve never been able to express what it meant to grow up in Scarbs and why it’s such a core part of my identity, but this book does that. So many stories of loss, of hope, of struggles that my family and my friends had to go through while I growing up that are expressed in a pleasant way through this book. From not being able to relate to cottages, to being constantly randomly ID’d by police as a kid, but also appreciating the deep value of community. 

This is an important book with insights into a world that not everyone understands.

Mitul Shah

This book hit a little too close to home- although, I shouldn’t be surprised as I grew up in Scarborough. 

I’ve never been able to express what it meant to grow up in Scarbs and why it’s such a core part of my identity, but this book does that. So many stories of loss, of hope, of struggles that my family and my friends had to go through while I growing up that are expressed in a pleasant way through this book. From not being able to relate to cottages, to being constantly randomly ID’d by police as a kid, but also appreciating the deep value of community. 

This is an important book with insights into a world that not everyone understands.

In Scarborough, a low-income urban neighborhood, three kids struggle to rise above poverty, abuse, and a system that consistently fails them. The adults in their lives either rise to the occasion or fall by the wayside; together, they make up a troubled yet inspired community that refuses to be undone.

Fraser Simons

Usually short story type collections end up around 3 stars for me, simply because some stories hit and some miss. It’s the nature of the beast, for me. But I found this to be a very tight slice-of-life collection of Toronto, painting an intricate portrait. Each, I think, is necessary to form this sum. So even if some aren’t “my favourite”, more so than other books like this, this met and exceeded my expectations.

I write this after crying multiple times while reading this. A beautiful book that I couldn't put down, about community at its purest. A must read.

Jen Estrella

This is hands down the best book I have ever read this year, and the year is not even over yet. If you live in Canada, you have no excuse to not read this book. It is so frighteningly (I had to use the adverb) heartbreaking yet so full of hope at the same time. I cried. I am still hurting, and I have no idea how I am going to sleep tonight. 

This is me the whole time I was reading, except I wasn't just scared. I was really sad. 


I would have loved to open with a quote, but the reference library was closing when I finished reading this, so I had no choice but to return it. I will likely buy my own copy, because it needs to be on my shelf, and I need to reread it. Maybe after that I can write a proper review. For now, I'll have find another book to read, though I highly doubt anything can top this one. 

I'm stressed out. How do I get over that?

Scarborough

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