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Deadspin: Josh Lueke Is A Rapist, You Say? Keep Saying It.

Over at Deadspin:

I know that a lot of us are well aware of what kind of person Josh Lueke is, and that rape is a very bad thing. We don’t need reminders to be secure in that knowledge, nor is it likely we’ll forget. But with all due respect to Mr. Hahmann and his ilk, the onslaught of tweets calling Josh Lueke a rapist is not for you. It’s for the thousands of rape survivors who watch games and know that what they love is sullied by baseball’s willingness to turn a blind eye to the kind of suffering they themselves endured. It’s a gesture on the part of fans who know it’s unlikely Lueke will ever see his career end as a result of those actions, but refuse to tolerate his inclusion, who believe that, while a team may opportunistically decide to field a talented player who has committed an act of sexual violence, it shouldn’t be immune from the disgust of the public.

Read the full essay here.

One Hour in Paris


In Canada, over half of the female population has experienced at least one incident of physical or sexual violence since the age of 16. In America, there is a rape reported every six minutes. One could make a lifelong project of explaining what the resulting suffering truly feels like and never succeed, but with One Hour in Paris, Freedman has certainly come close. It’s taken her more than 20 years to arrive at point where she could write of the assault, and of the legal, psychological and interpersonal aftermath that followed. In her brave and compelling memoir, the professor of philosophy uses her keen intellect and in-depth knowledge of trauma to unravel the complexity of rape, and to make sense of the imprint it has made on her life, and on the lives of so many others.

Read the full review at The Afterword.

The Opposite of Loneliness, by Marina Keegan

It’s difficult to process the feeling that comes from reading a book by an author you know will never pen another word. It’s even more difficult when the book is a young author’s first, filled with optimism and promise — when the book literally says, “We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time.”

Read the review at The Afterword.


What Baseball Still Doesn’t Get About Injury and Mental Health

This assertion that players are people, vulnerable like anyone else, is a tough one for sports culture to accept. Yet mental health is as much a part of an athlete’s ability to perform as any other aspect of their well being. And while these leagues are, of late, making clearer attempts to protect players from injuries that have a direct link to the function of their minds—the MLB’s approval of pitchers’ protective caps; NFL rules preventing helmet-first hits to the head and neck; the NHL outlawing head-aimed body checks—they continue to fall short when it comes to addressing the more nuanced relationships between performance, injury, and mental health.

Read the whole essay over at Hazlitt.




Infidelity reviewed in the Daily Herald Tribune

“There is a sense of urgency to the book, as the reader wonders what will happen to Ronnie, Charlie and their partners. As the affair escalates, both partners become more frantic and needy. Fowles’ storytelling forces the reader to ask why people come together, and what makes them stay or leave. And yet, there’s the uncertainty of the whole thing and the many questions raised. One knows that this story cannot end well.

On first glance, Infidelity may seem to be a common, simple story about an affair. However, the nuances of the story, its themes and the freshness Fowles brings to the ideas, make her book incredibly captivating.”

Infidelity reviewed in Publishers Weekly

“When Ronnie meets the older Charlie, a writer whose professional success has done little to mitigate his insecurities, the attraction is mutual; neither one can resist the temptation to push back against the constraints of domesticity. What follows is an affair as heated as it is predictably doomed, a series of covert assignations leading inevitably towards revelation and transformation, recriminations and for some, escape. No matter how eagerly Charlie kids himself, Ronnie is no manic pixie dream girl, and as desirable as liberation from the loathsome Aaron is for Ronnie, the course she and Charlie choose is self-indulgent, irresponsible, and cruel with little concern shown for the consequences to the innocents affected by the affair.”

Read the review here.

Boy Next Door: Growing up in the shadow of Paul Bernardo

Over at The Walrus, a memoir on growing up in the time of The Scarborough Rapist.


“Every child in my neighbourhood knows about rape, because it is everywhere and has been for years. It lurks at bus stops and calls from headlines, whispers its way into half-understood playground conversations, screams from the six o’clock news as my parents usher me away from the TV set in the rec room. For three years, a man, known only as the Scarborough Rapist, has been stalking and assaulting young women. He has been following them from bus stops, attacking them brazenly in public spaces. The neighbourhood marinates in its own fear and paranoia, and hungrily consumes the media-driven suspicion and helplessness.”

Read the piece here.

“The affair – seduction, desire, heartache – can overturn a life. Stacey May Fowles’s third novel, Infidelity, recounts an affair, but it is also a twisting exploration of that ‘life,’ the one that came before the affair, the life so painful to dismantle because it, too, was built on hope and trust. ‘Maybe I’m here,’ a young woman, Ronnie, tells her married lover, ’so I can help you live your life better.’”

–Madeleine Thien, The Globe and Mail