I am not disposed to discuss books I have never read. I shouldn’t have to explain this, although it is a habit many people have – in so much as they read anything at all.
But any book that laments the loss of a version of New York City has no appeal to me and I will never break its spine. Vanishing New York is such a book (and blog).
From viewing the author’s blog, it chronicles the closing of every semi-landmark diner, café, or flower shop. This is an old motif: New York was better in ________ (fill in the decade or year).
As a boy "Regis and Kathy Lee" where always on in my house, every week day morning. Regis would fill in the blank at “New York was better in the 1950s.” No doubt he had good reasons for this stance. The city had yet to enter its long decline through the 60s and 70s. He was young, hopeful, and the city reflected his dreams and aspirations and could fulfill them. Who can blame him for thinking this?
In a round about way, this is the shadow side of that old saw that "New York City is the greatest city in the world". With that as a premise, NYC is always primed to topped from that lofty perch. The shadow version says the same thing, but on the other side of the coin, in whiny and nostalgic tones, that the city was better in _________ (fill in the decade or year). The New York City you know and experience is but a shadow city. You should have lived in the real city. As far as I can tell, this yardstick has always existed and is distinctly a New York historical dynamic.
The problems are self-evident. The voices that lament the town’s gentrification in the late 80s and 90s (my generation) laid its groundwork. They came in as “artists” whether they were or not, and laid the foundation for pushing low income people out of the Village or Alphabet City. They planted the seeds of gentrification – and then bitched when those plants grew and morphed beyond their comfort or control.
My sense is that all this fuss has more to do with aging, articulate people afraid of what they have lost over the years, and we all lose something – who use NYC as a symbol or token of loss. I sympathize. Loss is difficult. As we age, the world feels less and less made for us. It muscles us out. This hurts. New York leaves us behind.
But ultimately, NYC is good or bad according to a sliding rubric that can satisfy no single group, or even person. If you want to jack off in a porn theater in Times Square, clearly that is a loss. If you wanted to buy crack in Washington Square Park – yet another check in the loss category. If you are an artist who requires a minyan of like-minded folks to sit in diners and drink old man coffee as you express ideas or concepts, clearly something vital is long gone.
Ultimately, people will write eulogies to dying worlds. Why not? You can no longer get a sandwich at the Carnegie Deli (as if delis were ever eternal?) So lament and cry. Write books about it. Despite being born in NYC, this is not my concern. I try not to fall into the trap of narrowly defining my worth or joy to a place. In our world of rapid change, to do so seems masochistic.
But any book that laments the loss of a version of New York City has no appeal to me and I will never break its spine. Vanishing New York is such a book (and blog).
From viewing the author’s blog, it chronicles the closing of every semi-landmark diner, café, or flower shop. This is an old motif: New York was better in ________ (fill in the decade or year).
As a boy "Regis and Kathy Lee" where always on in my house, every week day morning. Regis would fill in the blank at “New York was better in the 1950s.” No doubt he had good reasons for this stance. The city had yet to enter its long decline through the 60s and 70s. He was young, hopeful, and the city reflected his dreams and aspirations and could fulfill them. Who can blame him for thinking this?
In a round about way, this is the shadow side of that old saw that "New York City is the greatest city in the world". With that as a premise, NYC is always primed to topped from that lofty perch. The shadow version says the same thing, but on the other side of the coin, in whiny and nostalgic tones, that the city was better in _________ (fill in the decade or year). The New York City you know and experience is but a shadow city. You should have lived in the real city. As far as I can tell, this yardstick has always existed and is distinctly a New York historical dynamic.
The problems are self-evident. The voices that lament the town’s gentrification in the late 80s and 90s (my generation) laid its groundwork. They came in as “artists” whether they were or not, and laid the foundation for pushing low income people out of the Village or Alphabet City. They planted the seeds of gentrification – and then bitched when those plants grew and morphed beyond their comfort or control.
My sense is that all this fuss has more to do with aging, articulate people afraid of what they have lost over the years, and we all lose something – who use NYC as a symbol or token of loss. I sympathize. Loss is difficult. As we age, the world feels less and less made for us. It muscles us out. This hurts. New York leaves us behind.
But ultimately, NYC is good or bad according to a sliding rubric that can satisfy no single group, or even person. If you want to jack off in a porn theater in Times Square, clearly that is a loss. If you wanted to buy crack in Washington Square Park – yet another check in the loss category. If you are an artist who requires a minyan of like-minded folks to sit in diners and drink old man coffee as you express ideas or concepts, clearly something vital is long gone.
Ultimately, people will write eulogies to dying worlds. Why not? You can no longer get a sandwich at the Carnegie Deli (as if delis were ever eternal?) So lament and cry. Write books about it. Despite being born in NYC, this is not my concern. I try not to fall into the trap of narrowly defining my worth or joy to a place. In our world of rapid change, to do so seems masochistic.
No comments:
Post a Comment