‘Screw parliament — where’s Starbucks?’
Author bemoans Torontonians’ lack of interest in history and architecture
Quentin Mills-Fenn

In downtown Toronto a few years ago, at the corner of King and Parliament, an archeologist discovered the site of the first parliament buildings of Upper Canada.

Despite the historical significance of the location, neither the mayor nor any of the the city’s councillors made an appearance, and the site was covered up within a week.

The whole affair suggests how little Toronto values its own history.

Michael Redhill lives in Toronto, and he wrote about this episode in his blog. He’s also written a novel, Consolation (Doubleday Canada), which fictionalizes the incident. History obviously matters to him.

Consolation is a story about a contemporary metropolis, but it’s also about the past. One of the main characters, David Hollis, is a professor with a profound interest in Toronto’s history. In the last months of his life, Hollis tries to track down the work of a 19th-century apothecary who photographed the rapidly expanding city. It’s an interest few others in the book share as the city’s new arena threatens to obliterate the evidence.

“In Toronto,” Redhill says, “we have a long-standing conflict with our legacy. It’s a city that’s always been self-conscious of being big, and so we don’t keep our links to the past. Cities that grow slowly, like Winnipeg, have a better chance of maintaining their architectural highlights.

“We’ve destroyed 80 per cent of our architectural heritage,” he adds. “Look at old photos of King Street between Bay and Parliament — it was Toronto’s High Street. Most of the Victorian buildings are gone.”

Redhill notes that these historical structures have been replaced by modern skyscrapers.

“My publisher’s (building is) one of them. It’s a big box,” he says.

Redhill was born in Maryland but came to Toronto when he wasn’t even a year old. He developed a great deal of affection for his adopted hometown, and he got to know a lot about it.

“Potter’s Field was on the corner of Yonge and Bloor, across from the Royal Bank building, where the Swarovski Crystal building is. Mind you, that was the outskirts of town,” he says, referring to the cemetery of old York.

Despite its historical bent, Consolation has a family saga at its centre, as David’s widow tries to restore his reputation while his daughter, Bridget, struggles to bury the past. Only David’s son-in-law, John, is genuinely intrigued by his work.

“Torontonians aren’t interested in the past,” Redhill says. “Why are they so outward-looking? So obsessed in how they appear? Is there nothing that will turn their gaze inward to define the place they live in context?

“You hear people who’ll ask the question, ‘What’s the payoff?’ Bridget represents that point of view. She’s interested in the here and now.”

There’s no doubt in Redhill’s mind of the importance of preserving the architectural heritage of any city, not just Toronto. But Winnipeggers shouldn’t be too smug about our treasures. After all, plans are in place to tear down one of the oldest buildings in Winnipeg, on Albert Street, to make room for another parking lot.

“It’s impossible to see the scale of a city when your point of reference is inside of yourself,” Redhill says, “and Toronto is guilty of that.”

It would seem Toronto’s not the only guilty city.