Jack of all trades Martin Hunter’s coming-of-age story is an entertaining and easy-to-read read memoir that puts the lie to the common perception of post-war Toronto as a stuffy, boring outpost. Set against the backdrop of the city’s burgeoning theatre community, Hunter’s vivid recollections bring to life the Toronto of the 1940s and ’50s, the years that later inspired Hunter to take up the reins at the University of Toronto’s Hart House Theatre.

Young Hunting focuses on the golden days of Hunter’s life, just out of university and beginning work as a government mandarin. The young Hunter clearly longs to be accepted among the elite, but never quite manages to fit in. Hunter describes his days as a hanger-on, basking in the reflected glory of more talented friends and mentors. His memoir is marked by the keen observations of the outsider, and there is admirable honesty in it.

The Toronto that Hunter describes is vastly different from the city we know today. The blatant and unapologetic racism and the overt power of the WASP elite preclude nostalgia for the good old days. At the same time, Hunter conveys a sense of a city and a country emerging, shaking off its colonial roots and heading into a period of self-discovery and autonomy.

The memoir’s structure is somewhat confusing, however. The first chapter begins rather abruptly, describing Hunter’s first days as a diplomatic assistant; the book then flashes back to the beginning of his life. It’s not clear what the point of that first chapter is, and it provides a less than satisfying introduction to what then becomes a riveting journey to manhood.

That structural blip aside, Young Hunting is a rare and honest recollection of young adulthood, and an intensely personal reminiscence of one man’s passage through Toronto the Good.