March 5th, 2011

jiip sad

Wrætlic is þes wealstan, wyrde gebræcon

'Wondrous the wallstone; the fates broke it down.'

OK, yes, I'm glad those little houses tucked around the corner on Sultan St won't be torn down when the next godless highrise goes up. Those houses are invisible from anywhere but the other side of Sultan St, which is a one and a half block long street with cul-de-sacs at both ends. East of St Thomas it's stopped by the buildings on Bay; the west half-block is cut short by Victoria U's playing fields and the back drive/ entrance to TO's first mixed use downtown apartment conglomerate, the Colonnade. It's a tiny end of the world where cars have to edge to pass each other, and it was until recently a lovely little backwater of the past. A friend lived on Sultan in the late 60s; round the corner on St Thomas was Le Provencal, one of the first and best French restaurants; Theatre Books still sits on the corner in one of the old houses. (And I wish I could remember where they were before then.) After Yorkville went super-rich and the Gerrard St village vanished, this was the only place I could get a hint of what 40s and 50s Toronto had felt like when there was an art and literature scene among people who weren't, then, rich or famous-- Morley Callaghan, Albert Franck, Marshall McLuhan, Northrop Frye.
Collapse )