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A review by jakewritesbooks
St. Marks Is Dead: The Many Lives of America's Hippest Street by Ada Calhoun
4.0
I had already known I was going to like Ada Calhoun’s tapestry of St. Marks stories and lore by the time I got halfway through it. But it’s what she said when inserting herself that took it to another level for me.
Calhoun was raised on the block through childhood and when talking about how chaotic and troublesome things were off St Marks in the 70s and 80s, she mentioned the resentment of some locals…including herself. That despite the great arts and music scene and thriving queer spaces, the block was poorly kept, trash ridden, loud and dangerous.
This confirmed what a family member of mine had said. They were raised on the opposite side of Tompkins Square Park and while they have a lot of great stories, it wasn’t the best place to grow up as a child.
Those of us like me who have had their metaphorical noses pressed to the glass of New York City, always hoping to live on St. Marks or some of the other popular avenues (before they became playgrounds for the rich) can stand to learn the lesson here. I loved the stories Calhoun shared and how she handled the transition from one generation to the next (and how each generation thought their respective era was the best). But she’s also very honest about her hometown block: it was not always great. Whatever great art or music or culture came out of it was born from a diet of pain that comes from urban neglect and federal indifference. What changed St. Marks was real estate developers deciding one day that this would be the place for the upper middle class (and now points north) to live.
It’s not a comprehensive history of what was going on in terms of real estate, politics, etc. More a pastiche of tales on what make St Marks so unique, for better and for worse. That she struck a balance between the two shows what an effective writer Calhoun is. Love New York all you want; I certainly do. Just remember that folks who grow up there often have a different perspective.
Calhoun was raised on the block through childhood and when talking about how chaotic and troublesome things were off St Marks in the 70s and 80s, she mentioned the resentment of some locals…including herself. That despite the great arts and music scene and thriving queer spaces, the block was poorly kept, trash ridden, loud and dangerous.
This confirmed what a family member of mine had said. They were raised on the opposite side of Tompkins Square Park and while they have a lot of great stories, it wasn’t the best place to grow up as a child.
Those of us like me who have had their metaphorical noses pressed to the glass of New York City, always hoping to live on St. Marks or some of the other popular avenues (before they became playgrounds for the rich) can stand to learn the lesson here. I loved the stories Calhoun shared and how she handled the transition from one generation to the next (and how each generation thought their respective era was the best). But she’s also very honest about her hometown block: it was not always great. Whatever great art or music or culture came out of it was born from a diet of pain that comes from urban neglect and federal indifference. What changed St. Marks was real estate developers deciding one day that this would be the place for the upper middle class (and now points north) to live.
It’s not a comprehensive history of what was going on in terms of real estate, politics, etc. More a pastiche of tales on what make St Marks so unique, for better and for worse. That she struck a balance between the two shows what an effective writer Calhoun is. Love New York all you want; I certainly do. Just remember that folks who grow up there often have a different perspective.