Behind you – Quill and Quire

If you lived in or near Toronto in the late 1980s and early 1990s, you probably remember the Scarborough Rapist’s reign of terror. If you’re a woman, the effects are probably imprinted on your psyche, whether you’re aware of it or not. In her fourth novel, Catherine Hernandez returns to her familiar surroundings in Scarborough to explore the long-lasting effects of growing up in the shadow of this fear.

Alma is a film editor in her forties working on a true crime series. When the latest episode turns out to be about the infamous Scarborough Stalker (a thinly fictionalized version of real-life rapist and murderer Paul Bernardo), Alma is triggered by the recordings and images she is exposed to, revealing deep traumas within her early teenage years when the stalker terrorized her neighborhood.

Through flashbacks, we learn that violence was a part of Alma’s life long before the fear of the Scarborough Stalker came into play. Her mother, Luz, is an unpredictable and volatile woman who is quick to lash out, especially when she feels that Alma or Alma’s older sister have embarrassed her. In response, Alma learns to transform herself into whatever form is safest, be it a quiet, dutiful daughter to Luz or a docile girlfriend to a boy named Toby who accuses her of being gay (which she is, although she is not ready for it yet). don’t accept that yet) if she doesn’t want to have sex with him. In both cases, their attempts at self-preservation fail.

The physical, emotional, psychological and sexual abuse she endures in her youth causes Alma to carry a tendency towards self-blame into adulthood; It’s always her fault, even if she has no idea what “it” is.

This concept of blaming the victim is central to the book’s narrative. While Hernandez deftly demonstrates with “Luz” that abuse can take many forms and that women are fully capable of perpetrating it, she saves her most powerful commentary for gender-based violence. Hernandez is not a subtle writer, and her direct portrayals of the way society places the responsibility on women and girls to protect themselves from abuse, attacks, rape, and murder, rather than on men not to perpetuate these crimes, are pitch-perfect. From self-defense classes to rape whistles to comments disguised as well-meaning advice of the “You better watch out, a pretty girl like you” variety, the author nails every frustrating case of mis-exposure.

A preliminary note states that the book is a work of fiction based on real events and concludes, “It’s not about him, it’s about us,” and in fact the stalker is little more than a symbolic passage Behind you. Hernandez makes a tenuous connection between Alma and one of the stalker’s victims, but it seems unnecessary. The mere fact of his existence and that of others like him is enough. Alma’s story, shaped by her culture, sexuality, appearance, and everything else that makes her unique, is also a universal tale of fear and frustration that will resonate with any reader who has ever had to look over their shoulder, just in case.