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alissanelson 's review for:
Infinite City: A San Francisco Atlas
by Rebecca Solnit
According to the receipt that fell out of this book, I bought it on July 26, 2013 at City Lights. It was three days after my 32nd birthday and presumably a Friday because every Friday for about a year I would visit my therapist in her office across Columbus from City Lights. Every Friday I pedaled my bike the five or six miles along the Bay from my office in Bayview, watching the city transform from neglected future redevelopment hotspot in the shadow of the dismantled skeleton of Candlestick to the postindustrial docks of the Dogpatch, skirting the edge of Mission Bay (so shiny and threatening at the time of this book's writing) before taking the former freeway of the Embarcadero up until my left turn into North Beach, my last few pedalstrokes in low gear uphill until I locked my bike outside of the Hustler Club and walked up the stairs to find some measure of healing.
I have loved maps for a long time and I love how Solnit and her compatriots took me on a journey through time and space in that city I loved so much and left for another love. Even opening it took me on my own journey through the city, the map of discoveries external and internal, the cartography of connection.
I have loved maps for a long time and I love how Solnit and her compatriots took me on a journey through time and space in that city I loved so much and left for another love. Even opening it took me on my own journey through the city, the map of discoveries external and internal, the cartography of connection.