In the poem “Control Data” by Christopher Dewdney, a continuity consultant in his late fifties who “exhibited inordinate fear of commonplace objects and complained of spastic hair trigger orgasms” is offered a peculiar cure (or sentence)—a four-month term in Hamilton, Ontario. The same sense of ambiguity, of being caught between a cure and a punishment, pervades Hamilton Sketchbook by David Collier (Drawn & Quarterly). Hamilton may be a cure for ten winters spent in Saskatoon (a place where even a drawing pen will freeze), but most people would find the mix of urban ruckus and heavy industry to be harsh medicine. Not Collier— in his optimism he always manages to locate whatever rare gems are offered up by daily life in the city. This volume is a unique collection in the world of sketchbooks, for it is a successful combination of writer’s journal and artist’s studies—a deeply personal collection of annotated ephemera. Collier has drawn everything from some embarrassing moments with Large, the family dog, to bank clerks, local mechanics, crossing guards—and dreams, such as the one where he is dressed in plaid overalls for his new job at the department of Fisheries and Oceans.