City Lights -- Stories About New York by Dan Barry, Foreward by Alice McDermott, St. Martin's Press '07, $25.95, 297 pages, ISBN #031236718X. B&W images sprinkled through text.
Fifty years ago, ABC-TV launched Naked City, a popular series about New York City, concluding each episode with: "There are eight million stories in the naked city....This has been one of them." What is so liberating to a person writing about Gotham is that no one person can ever hope to understand it all, so one is free to focus on one fascinating item at a time. Yet collectively, chroniclers from O. Henry to Joseph Mitchell, from Jimmy Breslin to Pete Hamill, have helped us gain knowledge of the ultimately unknowable.
Dan Barry of The New York Times, an able scribe, has now added his name to that distinguished list with his collection of his "About New York" columns published between 2003 and 2006. Chillingly, he observes that a dividing line has crept into New York-speak between "before" and "after." The line once might have referred to the onset of the immigrant hordes or to Pearl Harbor. With six-year-old memories so fresh, it's not even necessary to name the event.
Barry has grouped his columns into six loosely thematic sections of which our favorite is "Vanishing New York." The author is a master of the pathos of change and loss, so endemic to life in a city. His column about the closing of the 174-year-old Fulton Fish Market begins:
"It smells of truck exhaust and fish guts. Of glistening skipjacks and smoldering cigarettes; fluke, salmon, and Joe Tuna's cigar. Of Canada, Florida, and the squid-ink East River. Of funny fish-talk riffs that end with profanities spat onto the mucky pavement, there to mix with coffee spills, beer blessings, and the flowing melt of sea-scented ice."
Manhattan's Munson Diner left town, Barry writes, when the city "lost the taste for its meatloaf and gravy." We follow Edwin Torres's lonely and futile 30-year fight to save St. Brigid's Church. His headlines amuse as well; when Brooklyn's Williamsburgh Savings Bank building was turned into condos, the headline read: "A Tower Packed With Dentists, and They All Have to Come Out." The Plaza shuts its doors for transformation into condos. Howard Johnson's serves its last pistachio cone. And the final resident holds on desperately to his 4x8-foot cubicle in a Bowery flophouse.
We suggested above that it's impossible for one person to full understand this five-borough behemoth. But it is still possible to appreciate trendlines, and one disturbing one is Barry's conclusion that New York City is fast becoming "an outdoor mall for the affluent."