Content warning forsexual violence and violent content. Contains Spoilers for Strange Darling.
With an endorsement from The Haunting of Hill House creator Mike Flanagan on its poster, JT Mollner’s latest film, Strange Darling, is receiving high praise from Stephen King and critics as a shocking and brilliant new thriller. It follows two characters named in the opening sequence as “The Lady” (Willa Fitzgerald) and “The Demon” (Kyle Gallner) who play a cat-and-mouse game after a one-night stand turns into an unidentified serial killer’s latest spree. While the film has unique stylistic elements and strong acting by the leads, the twist left a feeling of discomfort as it played out to the end.
Strange Darling begins by announcing that it was shot entirely on 35mm film. Its most notable stylistic aspect is that the story is broken up into six parts, shown non-linearly. It starts with Part 3: We see “The Lady” running through a field for her life as a cover of “Love Hurts” by Z Berg plays, clearly referencing the deadly turn their potential relationship has taken. The fragmented storytelling purposely confuses the audience as the first two parts immediately follow, starting violently with no build-up. As evidenced by the name “The Demon” and the loud, ominous score that accompanies his onscreen appearances, the audience is led to believe that he is the serial killer.
Despite the promise of a shocking twist, it was no shock to me that Fitzgerald’s character was the serial killer instead. By watching the one-night stand unfold, we see their kinky dynamic progress as her sexual desires turn darker. A shot from the film’s opening of “The Demon” choking her is recontextualized when it is revealed that she requested and encouraged this violent act. The film could have delved deeper into the kink aspect of a budding relationship like the films Secretary and Sanctuary. Instead, in a typical femme-fatale act, “The Lady” uses “The Demon’s” sexual desire for her to incapacitate him with drugs and attempts to murder him after finding out he is a cop. The cat-and-mouse game ensues as he gets away and then hunts her down.
My distaste for Strange Darling was strongly shaped by the final parts of the film and the dangerous message they convey. As “The Lady” finally kills her target, the cops show up and a troubling scene emerges. She pulls down her pants and falsely claims that “The Demon” raped her in an attempt to get away. The female cop immediately believes her claims while the male cop has doubts despite the violent scene she shows. After the revelation that Fitzgerald is the serial killer “The Electric Lady,” the cop’s initial disbelief of a self-proclaimed sexual assault survivor is proven right.
However, only a small percentage of rape allegations are false, which raises the question of why this was included if not to be used as a fearmongering example of a vindictive woman. In what could have been a compelling film about a female serial killer, the film chooses instead to play on unfounded fears of men who feel unease about the #MeToo movement. This male fantasy of a lying woman being punished is clear when the film ends with her apparent death.
While Strange Darling stands out among recent horror films for its inventive structure and gorgeous cinematography, the misogynistic tones of the ending sequence left me feeling troubled. “The Electric Lady” is not given enough backstory to make her a compelling character—though Willa Fitzgerald does much heavy lifting with her powerful acting skills, especially when she realizes that she has truly been caught. In 2024, a film’s final message should not translate to “women can lie, too”—especially when concerning sexual violence.
A Way to Be Happy is the latest work of short stories by Canadian author Caroline Adderson. Adderson, who currently lives in Vancouver, B.C., has published five novels and several popular children’s books.
The eight stories in this collection range from mundane to fantastical, showcasing the benefits of the short story as a form; without reading an entire novel, you get to experience a variety of tales. Adderson weaves between stories without losing her artistic voice, delivering compelling narratives throughout. Each story in A Way to Be Happy exists within its own world, shaped by the unique characters within it. Whether dealing with a routine colonoscopy, a string of holiday robberies, or moving to a new town, the stories’ uniting factor is, as the title suggests, a consideration of what happiness is—and what it means to find it.
Adderson’s prose is straightforward but doesn’t flatline; every word choice feels intentional. When she goes into detail, it is perfectly placed to highlight her characters’ idiosyncrasies, making the reader empathize with their struggles. The beauty of a short story collection is the narrative diversity which means that, hopefully, there can be something for everyone. Here are some of my favourites.
“From the Archives of the Hospital for the Insane” is a poignant depiction of a group of women attempting to help a young girl escape from the hospital they have been admitted to. While the women’s names are fictionalized, their experiences are not. In the acknowledgments, Adderson reveals that she took inspiration from British Columbia’s Provincial Hospital for the Insane in the early 20th century, using records from the BC Archives to shape her story. She incorporated quotes from real patient files to highlight the historical attitudes towards women’s mental health. Adderson shows the tenderness and solidarity the women develop through their shared circumstances and explores their agency, even in a marginalized position.
“Yolki-Palki” is the story of Varlam, a Russian hitman with a mysterious lung disease who begins to recall past events, some of which he has a hard time placing. Though they are fuzzy, Varlam keeps returning to visions revolving around an older woman and the forest. He struggles to understand the source of his distress and isn’t sure if he’s dreaming, but as the story progresses, his visions solidify in his mind. When Varlam finally understands his illness, so do the readers, and we see how the natural imagery within the story comes to symbolize Varlam’s lost innocence and unresolved guilt in a dream-like ending.
In “All Our Auld Acquaintances Are Gone,” Adderson follows a couple, Corey and Taryn, on New Year’s Eve in Vancouver. After losing their friend Kayla to an overdose, the pair infiltrate a holiday party to rob it so they can make a new life somewhere else. We follow Taryn throughout the night, who struggles with her confidence more than Cory, creating internal conflict. Adderson explores the difficult experience of grief in relation to the glimpses she gets of the partygoers’ lives. Despite being the shortest story of the collection, Adderson skillfully balances character-building and narrative tension. Her stories also incorporate Canadian locations and brands, making this story and others more familiar to Canadian readers.
These humorous and touching stories are perfect for a rainy day this upcoming fall, whether you’re an avid reader or someone looking to get into it.
A Way to Be Happy by Caroline Adderson will be available at local bookstores on Sept. 10.
Call-and-response chants of “Union! Power!” punctuated the Association of Graduate Students Employed at McGill (AGSEM)’s back-to-school rally on Sept. 4. AGSEM, the union representing teaching assistants (TAs), exam invigilators, and Academic Casuals such as graders and tutors at McGill, held the event to mark their full return to instruction after a lengthy TA strike in the spring.
The strike, which lasted three weeks, came to an end on April 15 when AGSEM and the university formed a new collective agreement (CA) dictating pay and working conditions for graduate employees. Although the CA ensured a pay raise for TAs—six per cent retroactively and three per cent in future years—McGill has not yet met the deadlines for remittance established by the back-to-work protocol agreed upon.
The university agreed to compensate TAs for any unpaid hours worked before the strike. They additionally agreed to retroactively compensate TAs by paying the difference in the hours paid at the pay raise level established by the new CA versus the original pay level. According to rally organisers, McGill committed to paying AGSEM members for all hours worked at the base pay level by June 20 and then with retroactive effect by July 19; however, McGill has yet to finish making these payments.
AGSEM delegate and McGill Physics TA Nick Vieira expressed the need for pressure against the university to receive the benefits of the CA in a speech at the rally.
“This contract doesn’t mean a whole lot unless we work with each other to defend and follow it, and unfortunately, at every turn, McGill has not followed that […] contract,” Vieira said.
In a written statement to The Tribune, McGill’s Media Relations Office (MRO) reported that the university has been “in a transition period” since reaching the CA with AGSEM in the spring. The MRO maintained that they continue to collaborate with the union on any outstanding issues.
AGSEM organisers also reintroduced their No More Free Hours campaign at the rally, urging attendees to keep careful track of their time worked this school year. Vieira explained in his speech that 48 per cent of TAs at McGill work an average of 13 hours over their contract, which amounts to $470 CAD of unpaid labour per semester.
Vieira also spoke to the importance of continuing to advocate for the union and its members’ rights.
“We went on strike, we worked hard to get it, we owe it to those who came before us, and we owe it to ourselves to defend our contract,” Vieira said.
Speakers at the rally additionally addressed the labour negotiations that have begun between AGSEM’s invigilator unit and the university in advance of the expiration of the current, invigilator-specific CA. Magnus L’Argent, President of AGSEM, reported that the union hopes to raise the current invigilator wage of $18 CAD an hour due to understaffing and the physically demanding nature of the role.
In a statement to The Tribune, the MRO expressed optimism about future negotiation with AGSEM’s invigilator unit.
“As for negotiations with AGSEM’s invigilators’ unit, the collective agreement expires in December 2025 and we expect the negotiations will go well,” the MRO wrote.
Evan Fox-Decent, the President of AMPL, addressed the crowd—including many fellow Law professors associated with the union—outside the Bronfman Building.
“Only by working and fighting together will you make your working conditions and our students’ learning conditions better for all, and keep us together as a community and not […] splintered […] as McGill would otherwise [want],” Fox-Decent said.
Similarly, Dallas Jokic, an AGSEM member involved with CA negotiations during the winter 2024 term, affirmed the importance of inter-union support.
“The employer has a lot of advantages against us […] access to the fanciest union-busting lawyers that money can buy, [and] they have connections [among] politicians and in the media,” Jokic said. “But the advantage that we unambiguously have over the employer is that McGill works because we do.”
Imagine me in my bed. It is past midnight, dark but never perfectly dark. The curtains glow ghostly white in the columnar light of my phone screen. Streetlight pours over my static body. I am lulled by the sound of Seinfeld, the sitcom dialogue running like a current through my headphones, the laugh track looping until I lose consciousness. This is how I sleep.
Imagine me in the shower. Any time of the day or night, the bathroom is transformed by warm LEDs into a pseudo golden hour. My phone rests upside down on the metal grate of a shower caddy, sprayed with droplets from the busted showerhead. YouTube videos play on shuffle. I am only half listening; waterfall drowns everything into a murmur. This is how I shower.
Imagine me making dinner. I cut onions, grate garlic, open cans of beans with firm twists of the wrist and hand. Vegetables sweat and simmer on the stove. My eardrums thrum with the rhythm of a reality television argument. A woman decides she hates her boyfriend. Someone says someone else is “really fake, right?” I smile at the cutting board and shake my head, detached, tethered to the present moment only by the smell of toasting spices and the slicing knife’s haunting sharpness. This is how I cook.
Imagine me on the sidewalk. There is a hat over my ears or a scarf against my cheeks, protecting me from the wind, cupping the frozen mist of breath against my face. The muffle of headphones softens my footfalls. Between my ears, two women dissect Canadian politics, a mortician deadpans an unsolved murder case, a twenty-five-year-old reads his old tweets and laughs aloud. This is how I walk.
I have rarely felt silence in almost three years.
My need for constant entertainment began in high school. While applying for university, the pressure of GPAs, admission averages, and potential rejection caused me to have what my doctor called ‘a bit of an episode.’ As I started to spiral, I adopted some ironclad coping habits. I struggled to get out of bed in the morning, so I let myself watch Netflix once I left my room. I struggled to shower, so I played podcasts or YouTube videos from my phone speaker. I struggled to sleep, so I stayed up watching Family Guy reruns until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. The common theme was noise. For months, I worked diligently to ensure that I didn’t spend a single waking moment in the terrifying emptiness of quiet. I was never fully feeling, never fully living, always distracted.
During that time, thinking was a risky ordeal because I suffered badly from intrusive thoughts. Silence posed an opportunity for my brain to fill in the blanks—even innocuous moments, like waiting for class to begin or riding the bus or shaving my legs, were an opening for some devious mental popup. Chain-smoking endless streams of content felt like the best form of protection. Being constantly entertained didn’t come without costs: These practices alienated me from myself and the tertiary experiences of my life. But the habits allowed me to go through the motions and maintain my sanity. After a few months, I got a diagnosis, started on meds, and became less miserable. Still, my need for noise stayed.
Constant entertainment was not just my personal depression life hack—it’s a scientifically vetted strategy. Experiencing occasional intrusive thoughts is not uncommon, but when intense and frequent, they quickly become distressing. If you’ve ever sat in a quiet meeting and felt you might start yelling uncontrollably or gotten the overwhelming sense that you might hit someone while driving, you have had an intrusive thought. They only become dysfunctional when you can’t turn them off.
How do you cope with a stream of distressing thoughts you can’t seem to stop? A 2014 study on OCD found that using “distraction as coping behaviour is an effective technique for managing clinically significant intrusive thoughts.” Scientists determined that people’s ability to distract themselves from intrusive thoughts was essential to their ability to function. Instead of enduring the cycle of becoming upset and calming themselves down, patients could shift their attention before they had begun processing an emotional situation. While they couldn’t fully work through whatever had upset them in the moment, the strategy was adaptive, allowing participants to continue operating without becoming inconsolable.
Luckily for stressed-out people craving distraction, there is an endless variety of options to choose from, ranging from a minor auditory earworm to a fully immersive virtual world where no real-life concerns can intrude. We all know intuitively that music is pleasant, and television and podcasts are engaging, but nothing shuts your brain off completely like a TikTok or a Reel—they are a perfect trifecta of sound and image and text. Even better is combining multiple kinds of distraction at once, scrolling TikTok while you watch a show and online shop in a second tab. There are a million jokes on X (previously known as Twitter) about consuming five different types of content to eliminate the possibility of a single thought, but they are only half-joking. Distraction can feel more silent than actual silence, because it may be the only time that you get peace from your internal monologue.
“Not only do I have music playing at all times, but playing it out loud feels too far away […] so I keep my headphones on […] I usually fall asleep to TV if not music,” said Gianna Mountroukas, U3 Arts. When I asked why, she admitted she’s “tired of thinking” constantly—she feels like she’s “never in silence” even when the music is off. Like me, she is hungry not just for physical quiet but moments of internal peace, respite from a tireless stream of consciousness. These can be difficult to achieve without the aid of distraction.
Although the studies I discussed deal with mental illnesses, this process can exist with any kind of stress for any kind of brain. Even if you’re predisposed to mental wellness, just checking the news is enough to send anyone into a spiral. There is an endless list of things that you might want to avoid thinking about. Accordingly, many of my peers reported complicated relationships with silence.
Several of the people interviewed for this article described a love for background noise. Rowina Debalkew, U3 Arts, said that silence “can be both comforting and disturbing” depending on the circumstance, but she “can’t walk anywhere without music.” Theo Shouse, U2 Arts, said “Silence [is] only for sleep. Otherwise, I require constant podcasts and music.” Alvise Ceolato, U2 Arts, explained he only enjoys silence while smoking, as he’s forced to “listen to the pace of [his] breath.” Otherwise, he says silence “makes me feel like I need to judge myself and try to look at my own true colours.”
These reports indicate a widespread use of distraction as a coping mechanism. Dismissing our collective obsession with entertainment as stupidity or sloth is an incomplete conclusion—clearly, something deeper is going on. Still, recognizing that we distract ourselves for a good reason does not mean the practice is beyond reproach.
Personally, I began to wonder just how much I was blocking out. It had been too long since I sat with myself and puzzled through any big questions because I’d learned to avoid mental pathways that could end in anxiety. But over the summer I decided I wanted to reconnect with myself, with that internal monologue I had been blockading. I needed to reflect: What am I like when nobody else is around? Am I happy with how I’m spending my time? What are my dreams?
You can’t work these questions out with yourself in a 15-minute rap session. They require time and deep attention, the cumulation of many little ideas and realizations during the passing moments of your life. I got worried that I had robbed myself of many such moments because I was scared of what I’d feel along the way. The more time I spent in quiet, growing less and less afraid of what awaited me there, the more I felt the floodgates open. Instead of coping by preventing the upset before it began, I tried to complete the emotional cycle. I let myself fully experience my thoughts, fretting and crying and whatever else I needed to do to process them. Once I learned to sit with the discomfort, my brain became more peaceful. Silence became soothing. Being deeply connected to my surroundings allowed me to ground myself in times of stress and refocus on what was happening in the world outside my head.
I’ve seen promising signs of others reconnecting with their ability to exist without digital distraction. There was that New York Times article about the Neo-Luddite teens, who meet up to paint watercolours in the park instead of going on their phones. There’s the You Don’t Need a Smartphone pamphlet by New York indie writer August Lamm, who is trying to help others reclaim their attention and time. And there are the people ‘raw-dogging’ long flights, braving 19 hours with no entertainment. A BBC news article published in Aug. 2024 identifies the trend as a result of “collective yearning for balance as people seek to reclaim mental space and foster a deep connection with their inner selves.” McGill student Gaby Godfrey, U4 Arts, described this practice on a smaller scale—whenever they fly home they “have to sit alone with [their] thoughts for a minimum of 45 minutes,” if only to prove they can. Instead of using quiet moments as opportunities for distraction or productivity, I see a growing respect for the ability to unplug. Granted, it’s strange that doing nothing is not just a normal part of everyday life, but a bizarre enough practice to warrant a ‘trend’ and a place in the news cycle. Still, I’m glad the idea is coming to the fore.
I heard many other heartening accounts of my peers taking back their quiet time too. Sam Batson, U3 Arts, used to feel the urge to “consume media at every given moment,” before she concluded that this habit “increases stress rather than soothes it.” Now, she loves “just chilling in all the natural noises of life.” Instead of constantly listening to music, Celia O’Hara, U3 Arts, has begun taking silent walks—she finds them better for reflecting and reconnecting with her sensory environment. And when I asked Johnny Carter, U3 Education, about quiet, he said it makes up a significant portion of his normal day. He missed it badly at summer camp, where the kids preferred constant music blasting.
I’ve been rejoining the world in this same way, a little at a time. I took a month away from Instagram. I have downloaded countless social media time-saving apps from the webstore. I own a physical notebook and a dusty typewriter. I’m learning to fall asleep in silence again, to shower with only the sound of the water running. These steps might sound small, but the habits are deeply ingrained and shockingly hard to kick. Being bored can be scary and uncomfortable, especially when the feeling has grown foreign—sitting in silence has become a skill which must be cultivated.
The idea that you feel better when you’re not constantly entertained is well-documented and intuitively obvious. But to address this pervasive issue, I think we must first give ourselves more credit, recognizing that we do these things for a reason: To make ourselves more comfortable and our lives more livable moment-to-moment. Understanding this behaviour for what it is—a coping mechanism—helped me unburden myself of guilt for what I thought was laziness or a character flaw or me wasting my own time. Once we correctly identify the problem, we can start to regard coping strategies like distraction with appropriate criticism, and effectively weigh the short-term comfort against the long-term costs.
I’m not suggesting we all throw away our headphones and embrace a monk-like reticence. That would be hypocritical—I’m listening to music as I type this. But I think that the ability to sit with your thoughts, to be bored, to endure the joy and discomfort of every tedious and terrifying and wonderful moment of your life, is an undervalued skill. If you, like me, crave distraction, don’t just slap yourself on the wrist when you see your screen time report—try to identify what you’re avoiding. If you want to nurture this skill, start small. Sit on the bus or an airplane or the curb and look around, notice everything you can, listen to what happens when you aren’t wearing headphones.
Imagine me walking through my neighbourhood at night. It’s twilight and the sidewalks are abandoned; the sky is all grey clouds, the power lines and houses darkly contrasted, the yellow windows lit from within. My pant legs swish past each other at the knees as I walk. The wind makes a shushing noise as it moves through the trees.
It’s quiet. My thoughts are no longer too large for my body. I bet yours aren’t either— but you should see for yourself.
Canada’s military spending has recently faced increased scrutiny, with the United States urging the Trudeau government to meet the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)’s defence spending target of two per cent of their GDP. As one of the lowest spenders on defence among NATO allies, Canada has continuously faced criticism from U.S. officials for its perceived lack of commitment to military investment. In the context of Canada’s pervasive ties to the colonization of Palestine, increased military spending directly furthers Canada’s involvement in violence that contradicts its values of protecting human rights and promoting peace. Paralleling McGill University’s private investments, Canada’s federal budget allocations directly contribute to the ongoing genocide of Palestinians. Without divestment from the Israeli state and its enterprises, Canada and its complicit institutions—including McGill—will remain bloody-handed.
Canada’s complicity in Israel’s terror reflects a broader issue of military expenditures supporting systems of oppression and colonialism. Meeting the spending target would place a large strain on Canada’s budget, especially while the country faces pressing issues such as high living costs and underfunded social programs including healthcare and education. The choice to spend an already exhausted fiscal budget on the deployment of special officers to support Israel’s killing of Palestinians, rather than prioritizing domestic needs, reflects an interest in the propagation of violence abroad over the wellbeing of its own people.
In only three months, Canada exported more military goods to Israel than it has in the past 30 years—and Canadians are calling for their country to stop this funding. This is evident in its colonial military expenditures, its extensive history of genocide against Indigenous peoples, and its legacy of slavery.
Historically, Canada has often relied on the U.S. as a shield from international scrutiny. In return, Canada has supported U.S. interests in the Middle East by endorsing Israel as a key ally. As Canada faces a critical decision now, it must confront its historical shortcomings and decide whether to act in line with its so-called “peacekeeping” reputation, even if that means differentiating itself from its neighbours and allies. This decision is pivotal in defining what Canada truly stands for, as well as encouraging its institutions, such as McGill, to act accordingly. By not succumbing to pressures in meeting the two per cent NATO target, Canada will be taking an active step towards ending its complicity in violence.
Students worldwide have frequently been at the forefront of protests against military funding. In 1985, McGill became the first Canadian institution to divest from South African apartheid—a decision that was monumental in the movement against imperialism in South Africa, with a major impact on federal funding towards the apartheid. Decades later, McGill refuses to do the same with respect to the genocide of Palestinians. The contrast between the university’s explicit condemnation of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and its refusal to recognize the war on Gaza as genocide by Israel—instead referring to the humanitarian crisis as a “geopolitical conflict half a world away”—demonstrates its commitment to upholding structures of white supremacy. With the International Criminal Court convicting Israel of their genocidal operations in Palestine and people worldwide criticizing the actions of the state, Canada and McGill continuing to fund genocidal investments cannot be justified by NATO obligations or other external excuses.
Considering recent events like the forceful dismantling of McGill’s Palestine Solidarity Encampment and the administration’s violence against students, it is evident that student action towards divestment is imperative. Given that student tuition funds enforce McGill’s ties to Israel, the university’s decision to solely focus on tuition hikes as a student issue, while ignoring transparency about investment allocations, further illustrates McGill’s disingenuous approach. Universities such as McGill have increasingly been operating as businesses, prioritizing lucrative investments in sectors like weapons manufacturing over the values and welfare of their students.
To implement meaningful change, McGill’s leadership must align their investment practices with ethical standards and engage with student movements, not just in promise but in practice. This will not only compel the Canadian government to acknowledge that one of its leading institutions rejects genocide, but it will also forge a transformative new legacy for the university. Students, particularly incoming freshmen, have a vital role in this process. They should educate themselves about ongoing campus issues, join activism efforts, and ensure their voices are heard in shaping the future of their institution. By staying informed and engaged, students have the power to guide our surrounding institutions toward a future where spending reflects a prioritization of morality over exploitation.
Standing in the final room of Saints, Sinners, Lovers, and Fools, I find myself transported into an era abundantly different from my own. My eyes glance over the drapery of richly pigmented paint layers, taking in the synthesis of colour, subject, and function. On the walls hang over 20 paintings, with sculpted borders of golden wood and gilded frames just inches apart. I stand in a recreation of a 16th-century “Cabinet of Curiosities,” a private collection of artifacts used to convey a vast knowledge of the universe. The show recaptures a time when paintings like these were hung in private homes, plainly tacked onto wooden walls, only glanced at casually while walking from room to room. We stand in the art cabinet as if beings from the past, in swooping historical silhouettes, assuming the role of a 16th-century noble to shoulder the fears, desires, and cultural anxieties of this early modern Flemish population.
The exhibition Saints, Sinners, Lovers, and Fools has been on view at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts since June 8. Organized in collaboration with The Phoebus Foundation, the curators include Chloé M. Pelletier, known for her focus on pre-1800s European art, and Phoebus’s own Katharina Van Cauteren. It is a pictorial navigation through the cultural foundation of the Low Countries and a glimpse into the Flemish psyche, one of anxious consternation of the looming afterlife ahead.
Upon entering the first room, entitled “God is in the Details,” we are greeted with an extension of diverse visual mediums: A wooden statue of a saint, an ornately decorated illuminated manuscript, two triptychs, and several paintings, all of religious sentiment. The divinity of these images is accentuated by the use of gold leaf and rather surrealist imagery. Following the toils of the Black Death, the Low Countries found salvation in contemplating the world that follows life; art became a medium of cultural exploration, both for use in spiritual practices and an examination of anxieties surrounding death.
The room’s highlight comes in the form of a painting, a surrealist representation of a fiery afterlife: 1540’s “Hell,” painted by a follower of Hieronymus Bosch. The imagery is all-consuming, engulfing the viewer in its rabid eccentricities to convey the overarching presence of religious fear in the Southern Netherlands. In one corner, a beaked creature devours a human; in another, dogs gnaw hungrily at the stomach of a knight while a flying fish impales five souls right beside. These depictions of anguish and suffering exhibit themselves in this surreal landscape as a manifestation of the nation’s restless uncertainty about what accompanies death. Its inclusion is a masterclass in curation, elevating a placated religious apprehension that, after its viewing, accompanies all other artworks in the room.
The symbiotic flow of galleries continues as subject matter ebbs and flows, highlighting noble portrait art, the sins of societal “fools,” scientific discoveries, and the ever-changing progression of the Flemish spirit in times of war and struggle. Notable works of Anthony van Dyck and Peter Paul Rubens adorn the walls alongside works from the MMFA’s own art collection.
The Montreal leg of this exhibition contains several pieces owned by the museum, including Lucas van Valckenborch’s astounding 1595 scene, A Meat and Fish Market (Winter). While it typically hangs in the Pavilion for Peace’s third floor, the work is brought to life amongst these complementary Flemish works. These selected paintings are exceptional additions to the show, contextualizing many pieces seen regularly by the Montreal community in a culturally congruent space.
The selected works of Saints, Sinners, Lovers, and Fools solidify curation as an art form in itself. Every room, every wall, and every painting holds resonance in defining a Flemish identity. Immersing oneself in this culture and exploring the emotions of the period allows for seeing a rendered beauty in its fear and trepidation. It redefines art as cultural remedy and illuminates emotions long forgotten.
Saints, Sinners, Lovers, and Fools runs until October 20, 2024. Tickets are available online or in person at the MMFA.
I’m starting my first year at McGill and am struggling to figure out how to connect with people and make friends, whether in my program or elsewhere on campus. I feel lost socially and worry that this might prevent me from fully enjoying and making the most of my first year.
Do you have any tips on how I can navigate this new environment?
Sincerely,
Socially Overwhelmed Student (SOS)
Dear SOS,
Your feelings and concerns are completely valid and resonate with many incoming students (we’ve all been there). Making new friends and meeting people in a large environment like McGill can be overwhelming. Whether you’re a newcomer or a returning student, navigating campus life and building connections can feel daunting. However, there are many ways to form long-lasting connections at McGill without getting stressed.
Making friends in your program The first few weeks can be a bit tricky. Many students might be dropping or switching classes, which can make it harder to find a steady group on campus. However, don’t let this discourage you. In the meantime, try sitting near someone alone in your classes. Fellow students are often in the same position as you—feeling a bit lost and looking to make new friends. Starting a conversation can be as simple as asking questions about the course material or the professor. This approach not only breaks the ice but also helps you find common ground with your peers.
When it comes to meeting people in your program, try not to stress too much. You have the entire year to connect with classmates, and it’s natural for friendships to develop over time. Even if you don’t chat with people on the first day, it is never too late to do so. Sometimes, your closest friendships may form just weeks before the semester ends. Stay open to meeting new people and avoid putting pressure on yourself or comparing your social progress to others.
Attend campus events
If you’re part of a faculty, make sure to follow their official social media page, as well as the page for their undergraduate student association. Faculties at McGill organize tons of events on and off campus year-round, and sometimes even host meet-ups in local pubs and bars. What better way to meet people and be more involved on campus than by embracing opportunities offered by your own faculty? These events provide valuable opportunities to connect with faculty members and students in your field of study.
Another way to meet new people on campus is by attending events hosted by McGill. The school often hosts intramural and varsity football, soccer, hockey, and basketball games where university teams compete against each other and other schools. Keeping up with the latest updates from //The Tribune’s//Sports section is a great way to stay informed about athletic events.
Explore clubs and volunteer opportunities
While it may sound cliché, one of the best ways to make friends on campus is to step out of your comfort zone. With over 250 clubs, there’s undoubtedly a match for everyone’s interests at McGill. Whether you’re into fashion, writing, social activism, or sports, there’s a club waiting for you. Explore club listings on Instagram to connect with student groups and organizations, enriching your McGill experience. Don’t miss out on the Students’ Society of McGill University’s (SSMU) Activities Night on September 11-12, where many SSMU groups showcase their offerings, providing a chance to interact with executive members and sign up. You could also find community in identity-based organizations like the Black Student Network, the Spanish and Latin American Students Association, and the Arab Students Association, among many others.
Additionally, searching for volunteering opportunities at Activities Night or through the McGill website is a fantastic way to engage with the campus community and meet like-minded students. Not only will it strengthen your academic CV, but it will help you make friends.
Don’t forget to be yourself
At the end of the day, the best way to meet new people and make the most out of your academic year is by being yourself. By remaining authentic, you will attract the right connections and opportunities. Trying to fit a mould or certain expectations can be exhausting, so take a deep breath, relax, and enjoy your new year at McGill.
As the Fall term begins, so does the reality of budget-conscious student eating, considering the lack of fresh produce on students’ plates. Whether that is due to their longevity or expense, many students encounter barriers when buying fruits and vegetables. But what if quality fruits and vegetables are more accessible to McGill students than it seems?
While there are vegetable baskets available at the downtown campus through the McGill Farmers’ Market every Thursday until October, the Macdonald campus’ efforts towards accessibility and visibility for local produce are undoubtedly superior.
Located only 32 kilometres away from downtown campus, the Macdonald Campus Farm boasts 240 hectares of land—it is McGill’s own living laboratory. Graduate and undergraduate students alike are taking their plant breeding research beyond the lab to the field to foster produce of better quality and higher yield, while simultaneously integrating pest management control. Genetic improvements are leading to better colour, taste and shape of fruit and vegetables— integral factors in consumer decision-making. This work is predominantly based at the Horticultural Research Centre, a space consisting of orchards, vegetable research plots, fruit grading equipment and cold rooms. It has also sparked the McGill Feeding McGill project that supplies 25000 kg of fresh produce—including green peppers, red peppers, butternut squash, and strawberries—each year across Montreal. Furthermore, the Macdonald Student Ecological Garden (MSEG) grows their own produce for their weekly market stall at the Sainte-Anne-de-Bellevue farmer’s market and for their basket subscriptions to Montreal communities.
The projects led by McGill’s Macdonald campus are increasing agricultural awareness and promoting agricultural education. They encourage local consumption of improved produce and avoid the excess packaging often seen in supermarkets. However, the wide-scale accessibility and visibility of the projects have not been adequately broadened to the downtown campus.
Such projects are certainly benefitting Macdonald Campus students socially, financially, and environmentally. However, the same cannot be said for students based at the downtown campus. Innovations so close to home remain out of reach. Such efforts must be made accessible to students across both of McGill’s campuses through increasing mobility between the two, raising the Macdonald campus profile, and providing more opportunities for Macdonald campus representatives and speakers downtown to make the presence more known. A shift in attention could prove critical, as around 37,000 of the over 39,000 students enrolled at McGill are based downtown. If anything, this statistic highlights the importance of knowledge, accessibility, and visibility in reaching each and every student in every faculty at McGill, not just those based at Macdonald campus. While the tradition is wonderful, the weekly McGill Farmers’ Market isn’t enough to point students in the direction of the organic, affordable produce coming from the Macdonald Campus Farm. Eating sufficient fruit and vegetables plays a crucial role in a healthy lifestyle, especially for students. So, let’s hope that soon the secret wonders of the Macdonald campus will move those 32 kilometers to downtown, or else our shopping baskets will remain a little less full and our platefuls the same boring beige.
Montréal truly comes alive during the warmer months, when restaurants swing their doors—and ceilings!—open to transform into al-fresco dining rooms. These charming outdoor spaces attract both locals and tourists alike; enjoying delicious dishes and refreshing drinks while soaking up the precious sunlight is an unparalleled experience. The Tribune presents our favourite spots for you to try for yourself.
1. Taverne Atlantic
Step into this Art Deco tavern in the Mile-Ex and you’ll instantly feel like a character straight out of a Wes Anderson film. The trendy ambiance, unpretentious meals, and extensive list of sumptuous refreshments accommodate solo dinners, dates, and a friends’ night out. For cocktail enthusiasts, the Royal Daïquiri and the Indian Summer are a must. If you’re feeling peckish, they offer gourmet pizzas, hot dogs, and poutines. Don’t forget to make your way to their rooftop barbecue where beer, music, and food lovers reunite to enjoy picturesque views of the neighbouring post-industrial landscape.
Address: 6512 Park Ave Hours: Every day 4 P.M. –1 A.M. Price : $-$$
2. Poincaré Chinatown
If you’re a fan of fermented foods, there is no better place than Poincaré’s rooftop. Start with any of their curated low-intervention wines, artisanal liquors, or mocktails. While clinking glasses, make your way through their house-made confectionaries—sourdough, kimchi, and seven-day lacto-fermented fries with confit shallot mayo are must-try dishes. This breathtaking rooftop terrasse fizzles with love and care, and you’ll likely make a point to come back for their sleek seasonal creations every time you’re near Chinatown.
Although most Montréalers have heard a thing or two about the sophisticated contemporary Italian eatery Elena, few know that by day, it transforms into a haven for promenaders seeking to escape the Notre Dame strip. Discover the charm of Club Social PS in Saint-Henri by savouring Elena’s famous Caesar salad, the “M. Funguy” wild mushroom and taleggio pizza, or their mouth-watering mafalda pasta. This is exactly what makes Club Social PS the perfect spot for a laid-back lunch accompanied by a bottle of wine. This relaxed yet refined terrasse combines casual elegance, welcoming staff, and top-notch flavours. Soon enough, you’ll understand why this superb restaurant consistently receives high ratings from world-renowned critics like Claire Saffitz.
Address: 5090A R. Notre Dame O, entrance by Parc Yamaska (Located behind Elena and accessed from around the back) Hours: Monday-Thursday 4:30 P.M. – 10 P.M., Friday-Sunday 11:30 A.M. – 11 P.M. Price: $-$$
4. Perché
The attentive staff, hints of the West Coast, and globetrotting wine list make Perché a standout from all the ultra-popular contenders in the Old Port. Nestled on the fourth floor of Hotel William Gray, their stellar menu screams summer, and their vibrant cocktails will make you feel like you hopped on a plane to California. For the ultimate beach resort experience, we suggest ordering their guacamole, peach salad, and salmon tartare while washing them down with a Ungava gin and tonic. If you’re lucky enough to be in the area on a Wednesday or Saturday summer evening, world-class fireworks accompany this unforgettable outing. We promise that by the end of the night, you’ll be thankful to have chosen the lesser-known of the two terraces in the elegant Hotel William Gray.
Address: 153 Rue Saint-Amable, fourth floor in Hotel William Gray Hours: Monday-Wednesday 12 P.M. – 10 P.M., Thursday-Friday 12 P.M. – 11 P.M., Saturday-Sunday 10:30 A.M.–11 P.M. Price: $-$$
Accessing gender-affirming care at McGill can be overwhelming, intimidating, and time-consuming. As we reach the mid-point of the Change-of-Coverage and Opt-Out Period, which falls between Aug. 14 and Sept. 27—The Tribune brings you a guide to SSMU’s Gender Affirmation Care (GAC) Plan, which was first introduced in Fall 2023.
Who is eligible?
The GAC Plan falls under the dental portion of SSMU’s Student Care Plan, meaning that it automatically covers both international and domestic undergraduate students. Canadian students can change their health insurance coverage between Aug. 14 and Sept. 27, or between Dec. 11 and Jan. 30 if they begin the academic year in the winter term. During this period, Canadian students can unenroll from SSMU’s Health and Dental Plan, or choose to enroll their spouse and/or dependents. This option is not available to international students. Since SSMU offers the GAC, it is exclusively available to undergraduate students at McGill’s Downtown Campus.
What does GAC cover?
The initiative is meant to supplement provincial coverage and the International Health Insurance (IHI) plan—provided by McGill and insured by Medavie Blue Cross. Therefore, when looking to submit a claim to insurance provider GreenShield for reimbursement, students must first check if their existing healthcare insurance covers it.
The only procedures that are not covered across all 13 provinces and territories and are thus guaranteed to be eligible for coverage through the GAC are vocal surgery and vaginal dilators. However, since gender-affirming healthcare options vary across Canada, students may be able to claim a variety of procedures like breast augmentation, facial feminization surgery, tracheal shaving, and laser or electrolysis hair removal that may not be covered by their provincial insurance or the IHI plan. Fertility preservation is not covered by the GAC.
The GAC covers a maximum of $5000 CAD per procedure, with claims for reimbursement limited to a lifetime maximum of $10000 CAD.
What are the GAC’s limitations?
To the Resources Coordinator at the Trans Patient Union (TPU) Sam*, the GAC Plan has two important shortcomings. First, they explained the GAC’s maximum offered coverage is not enough to take care of most procedures not already covered by provincial or international insurance that students are likely to need. Sam explained that both the maximum coverage per procedure and lifetime maximum amounts are insufficient.
“For a lot of procedures that patients are going to want to get, this coverage is just wildly inadequate. For example, when you’re talking about facial feminization surgery, those costs are measured in multiple tens of thousands of dollars,” Sam said. “This plan is good for these smaller procedures like hair removal, [but] if you want to get a surgery covered under [GreenShield], they are probably not going to make a huge difference.”
Second, Sam noted that Greenshield requires students to receive a gender dysphoria diagnosis from a doctor or nurse practitioner before accessing care, despite the fact that it is not a requirement for receiving gender-affirming care via Quebec health insurance.
To be diagnosed with gender dysphoria, patients typically have to experience symptoms for six months. While this creates a barrier to accessing care, Sam noted that practitioners at the Student Wellness Hub have been willing to work with students and provide diagnoses without waiting for six months.
How can students pursue care?
Sam stated that the Wellness Hub is a good place to start for students looking to begin receiving gender-affirming care as it provides quicker access to treatments like Hormone Replacement Therapy, since wait times are faster than many other clinics in Montreal.
Sam also suggested that students looking to receive gender-affirming care get in touch with the TPU, which has a number of resources for students and provides one-on-one support to people who need help with their transition.
*This name has been changed to preserve the individual’s identity.
