Chapters (15)
I glanced back at the Professor, whose brow lifted like an invitation, and then I looked away. He knew too much—the things I’d refused to do and all the things I’d endured. There was too much to explain—worry and melancholy and the unstoppable joy blooming in the midst of it all.
“You’re a Mem,” I told Harvey, stepping close enough that he could hold me again.
When he spoke, he whispered the words into my ear because he knew it was a secret, and I could hear his smile.
“I’m more than a memory,” he said. “I’m an epiphany.”
I let my head rest against his, and when I closed my eyes, the whole world went bright.
“So am I.”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
AUTHOR’S NOTE
One of the most rewarding aspects of writing speculative fiction is infusing magic and whimsy (and, of course, devastation) into a world not always unlike my own. In Mem, I was guided as much by my love of speculative science and the myriad potential outcomes as I was by my love of Montreal. As one of many to adore the architecture of this beautiful city, it made sense to set Elsie’s story during the vibrant decade during which so many gems were built (or, in the case of Windsor Station, repaired), and I so enjoyed injecting some of the unique city’s history into the narrative.
One aspect of Montreal, and indeed Canadian history, that I intentionally omitted is the reality of racism that was and is present. I refused to be beholden to this ugliness, stifling Elsie’s existence even further by dealing with the accuracy of how her blackness would have been treated, whether her family’s wealth would have allowed her entry into the social elite, and in fact whether the Professor would have been allowed to practice in a hospital or clinic at all. While some are of the opinion that fantastical works should be free from such considerations, and while I would generally agree, I am painfully aware of the constant and seemingly universally accepted misinformation about Canadian history.
It is ahistorical to claim any lack of slavery, segregation, oppression, or marginalization occurred or persists in Canada. It has been the work of many Black Canadian academics and activists to present factual rebuttals and accurate representations, but countering this culture of omission and erasure often feels impossible. I am including this note because I cannot in good conscience contribute in any way to this lie. Racism is absent from Mem not because it did not exist, but because I decided it wouldn’t for Elsie.
If you are interested in the often omitted history of slavery and racism in Canada, I highly recommend The Hanging of Angélique: The Untold Story of Canadian Slavery and the Burning of Old Montreal, by Afua Cooper, as well as Ebony Roots, Northern Soil: Perspectives on Blackness in Canada, edited by Charmaine A. Nelson.