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3.75 AVERAGE
3.75 AVERAGE
funny
informative
lighthearted
reflective
medium-paced
emotional
funny
reflective
fast-paced
adventurous
informative
fast-paced
Stream of consciousness love letter to New York City!
challenging
funny
reflective
fast-paced
Poetic meanderings of miscellany in New York, as if a novelization of the song “Tom’s Diner”. This approach worked great for a beautiful chapter on Central Park… but nonstop ramblings about strangers in the city gets old quickly when applied to Times Square and Downtown. I read this one in anticipation of an upcoming trip to New York, and was hoping for something more like some of the other classics about the city that I’ve loved, like “Open City” by Teju Cole, or “Here is New York” by EB White. I’d recommend those instead. Here’s a few quotes:
“You are a New Yorker when what was there before is more real and solid than what is here now.”
“Central Park… The one place they forgot to pave over. They’ll get around to it someday. Be patient.”
“LET’S PAUSE a sec to be cowed by this magnificent skyline. So many arrogant edifices, it’s like walking into a jerk festival. Maybe you recognize it from posters and television. Looks like a movie set, a false front of industry. Behind those gleaming façades, plywood and paint cans. Against it we are all extras. Walkers add incremental wear and tear to footwear. Joggers speed past walkers, seeing nothing but their inner skylines, long indifferent to the miracles around them. Bicyclists speed past them all, spinning spokes, a different species.”
“BUILD IT BIGGER, better. Brighter and blinding. Buildings get taller, burying us deeper as they play chicken. Race you to heaven, last one up is a rotten egg, floors full of lawyers. Up there in the corporate headquarters of the entertainment combine, executives decide your dream life. Down here vendors hawk heartburn, but at least they wear gloves per health regulations. A man hands out leaflets and they shun him as if he held a sheaf of virus and not merely advertisements for discount prosthetics. Formerly a pickpocket, now he pushes nosebleed seats to faded Broadway shows.”
“The time passed so quickly. Take a moment to look back and regret all the things you didn’t get to do, the places you didn’t get to visit. What you did not see. Promise yourself, Maybe next time. Assuming it will still be here when you finally return. Sometimes things disappear.”
— The Colossus of New York by Colson Whitehead
“You are a New Yorker when what was there before is more real and solid than what is here now.”
“Central Park… The one place they forgot to pave over. They’ll get around to it someday. Be patient.”
“LET’S PAUSE a sec to be cowed by this magnificent skyline. So many arrogant edifices, it’s like walking into a jerk festival. Maybe you recognize it from posters and television. Looks like a movie set, a false front of industry. Behind those gleaming façades, plywood and paint cans. Against it we are all extras. Walkers add incremental wear and tear to footwear. Joggers speed past walkers, seeing nothing but their inner skylines, long indifferent to the miracles around them. Bicyclists speed past them all, spinning spokes, a different species.”
“BUILD IT BIGGER, better. Brighter and blinding. Buildings get taller, burying us deeper as they play chicken. Race you to heaven, last one up is a rotten egg, floors full of lawyers. Up there in the corporate headquarters of the entertainment combine, executives decide your dream life. Down here vendors hawk heartburn, but at least they wear gloves per health regulations. A man hands out leaflets and they shun him as if he held a sheaf of virus and not merely advertisements for discount prosthetics. Formerly a pickpocket, now he pushes nosebleed seats to faded Broadway shows.”
“The time passed so quickly. Take a moment to look back and regret all the things you didn’t get to do, the places you didn’t get to visit. What you did not see. Promise yourself, Maybe next time. Assuming it will still be here when you finally return. Sometimes things disappear.”
— The Colossus of New York by Colson Whitehead
informative
mysterious
relaxing
Rule is, violence on purpose and beauty by accident."
Almost poetically, Whitehead flaunts his scholarship of New York's funk, filth and foolery. Whether you've lived there since birth (like him) or dropped in for a brief visit, he impresses with his ability to transform an ineffable urban spirit into paragraphs that fully immerse and astound with accuracy.
The structure is somewhat harsh, refusing melody and often, cohesion. Clauses would blur, crash, collide on the page, but for his religious practice with periods (and apparent disdain or at least agnoticism for most other punctuation). Yet the ideas stack and layer, build and tower, a collage of metropolitan vibes more compelling than any single part.
[Side note: Chen's "Gubeiko Spirit" in LAND of BIG NUMBERS pairs exceedingly well with "Subway." I'd love to see a serious dive to compare-and-contrast East and West with them.]
As usual, I finish a stronger Colson stan than when I began; his craft piles magnificently atop creative schist.
Almost poetically, Whitehead flaunts his scholarship of New York's funk, filth and foolery. Whether you've lived there since birth (like him) or dropped in for a brief visit, he impresses with his ability to transform an ineffable urban spirit into paragraphs that fully immerse and astound with accuracy.
The structure is somewhat harsh, refusing melody and often, cohesion. Clauses would blur, crash, collide on the page, but for his religious practice with periods (and apparent disdain or at least agnoticism for most other punctuation). Yet the ideas stack and layer, build and tower, a collage of metropolitan vibes more compelling than any single part.
[Side note: Chen's "Gubeiko Spirit" in LAND of BIG NUMBERS pairs exceedingly well with "Subway." I'd love to see a serious dive to compare-and-contrast East and West with them.]
As usual, I finish a stronger Colson stan than when I began; his craft piles magnificently atop creative schist.
funny
lighthearted
reflective
relaxing
fast-paced
This is for a New York FAN. It’s the corny shot every New Yorker wants to write but doesn’t want to be cringe. An attempt at the hackneyed bar of Rhapsody in Blue. Cringey and a bit dated but nostalgic and comforting