Robert Fulford is an essayist and mainstay of Toronto’s journalism community. As is expected of Canadian essayists not named Stuart McLean, he is something of a ruffled old malcontent. In Toronto: Accidental City, Fulford takes the reader on a tour of Hogtown’s physical and civic geography (somewhat dated after 14 prosperous years), along the way decrying every architectural, cultural and technological development in Toronto since the end of the nineteenth century. His only affection is reserved for the Red Tories (has anyone ever used the phrase “Red Tory” who is not an affluent white man with a guilty conscience?) who attempted to safeguard the city’s cultural landmarks in the 70s. Fulford supports the attempt, even if he thinks they too fouled up everything they touched and sullied the achievements of their Victorian forbears. It’s a good read if you agree that everyone since Goldwyn Smith (and maybe him too) has been a grasping, shortsighted bureaucrat.
On the whole, I recommend it highly. Unless you’re not from Toronto — in which case, Robert Fulford has no time for you and neither do I.
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