July 22nd, 2010 / 6:24 pm
Snippets
Snippets
Roxane Gay—
Colson Whitehead has a fantastic essay in The New York Times on writing in Brooklyn.
Colson Whitehead has a fantastic essay in The New York Times on writing in Brooklyn.
“How much is this friendship worth, in terms of page count?”
liked this article – thanks roxane
Great funny essay.
“How much is this friendship worth, in terms of page count?”
liked this article – thanks roxane
Great funny essay.
by downplaying the mystique he just sounds more like a hipster
Thanks for posting this.
i recently saw eyehategod open up for pentagram, and the singer told a group of young kids standing near the stage to “grow a fucking mustache and move to brooklyn.”
by downplaying the mystique he just sounds more like a hipster
Thanks for posting this.
i recently saw eyehategod open up for pentagram, and the singer told a group of young kids standing near the stage to “grow a fucking mustache and move to brooklyn.”
A classic from 08.
I thought this was funny but also a little empty. Colson says he gets asked all the time what it’s like to write in Brooklyn, and then he just mocks the question, as if setting has no impact on the way we write. Am I wrong to totally disagree?
He says writing in Brooklyn is probably the same as writing in Paris, only there are fewer people speaking French. Hearing people speak French isn’t what it’s like to write in Paris at all. To write in Paris is to feel literature all over, to see it in the bouquinistes on the quays and in the hundreds of bookstores wedged into every arrondisement around the city. It’s to question what compels French people to speak in crappy English with you even if you speak French fluently; to feel inspired when you catch a glimpse of Notre Dame on your way to the grocery store at 7pm; to question what it means to be so happy and so comfortable so far from home.
I think you could say the same thing for every setting. Writing in Manhattan is to be on constant observation-overload, to be overwhelmed by variety and inspired by it and made lonely by it too. You feel big and strong and important and then small and low and invisible. You wonder what mountains look like. You wonder what that homeless dude on the subway and that businessman fiddling with his iPhone have in common. How can that no influence the way you write?
The things we miss, the people we observe, the sounds we hear, the shortcomings that drive us crazy create our vantage point on the world. So I don’t think it’s a stupid question at all. What’s it like to write in Brooklyn? I’d like to know.
it is a little glib.
I would say his perspective is a little less interesting because he was born and raised in Manhattan. Someone who was born and raised in Brooklyn (Like Jonathan Lethem or ) can very much see Brooklyn as a muse to a bigger degree than Whitehead would. Or, I would argue that someone who moved to Brooklyn and spent considerable time there after being born and raised somewhere else would also have a much better appreciation for Brooklyn. When one comes from a suburban hellhole with strip malls and fast food restaurants on every corner, it’s not difficult to adopt Brooklyn as your real home. It’s got character, diversity, history and can be a really, really inspiring place to live. Colson Whitehead grew up in Manhattan, attended a haughty prep school there and I think he’ll always feel more connected to Manhattan than Brooklyn. I find his essay bland.
There are writers in Brooklyn?
A classic from 08.
I thought this was funny but also a little empty. Colson says he gets asked all the time what it’s like to write in Brooklyn, and then he just mocks the question, as if setting has no impact on the way we write. Am I wrong to totally disagree?
He says writing in Brooklyn is probably the same as writing in Paris, only there are fewer people speaking French. Hearing people speak French isn’t what it’s like to write in Paris at all. To write in Paris is to feel literature all over, to see it in the bouquinistes on the quays and in the hundreds of bookstores wedged into every arrondisement around the city. It’s to question what compels French people to speak in crappy English with you even if you speak French fluently; to feel inspired when you catch a glimpse of Notre Dame on your way to the grocery store at 7pm; to question what it means to be so happy and so comfortable so far from home.
I think you could say the same thing for every setting. Writing in Manhattan is to be on constant observation-overload, to be overwhelmed by variety and inspired by it and made lonely by it too. You feel big and strong and important and then small and low and invisible. You wonder what mountains look like. You wonder what that homeless dude on the subway and that businessman fiddling with his iPhone have in common. How can that no influence the way you write?
The things we miss, the people we observe, the sounds we hear, the shortcomings that drive us crazy create our vantage point on the world. So I don’t think it’s a stupid question at all. What’s it like to write in Brooklyn? I’d like to know.
it is a little glib.
I remember this piece. Tough to gauge throughout whether he’s being glib, sarcastic, trying to be funny, serious, etc. All over the place. Some funny lines. But: “I dig it here and all, but it’s just a place.” Hmm. This sentence stands out. It’s got to be a pose. I guess it’s possible but I’d be surprised if a writer like Whitehead (last book “Sag Harbor” – just a place?) would think place is not important…to live, to work. To Andrew Tolve’s point above. And even if he were not a writer but as a thinking person: just a place. Really? There are even cheaper places to live – in Brooklyn, elsewhere. Condo in Vegas? Detroit? Fort Greene ain’t cheap.
i think so, yes
http://nymag.com/nymetro/realestate/urbandev/features/n_10289/
I guess he left Fort Greene (before this Times piece was published, actually).
First line is great: “I used to live in Fort Greene, and whenever I visit my old neighborhood, I am tormented by the same absurd thought: I should have bought that crack house when I had the chance.”
In the time it was written (2004, mid-bubble), it would have been even funnier.
can someone confirm this
Whitehead (still?). Lethem moving to California. Safran Foer and Krauss.
2, possible 3 at least.
I would say his perspective is a little less interesting because he was born and raised in Manhattan. Someone who was born and raised in Brooklyn (Like Jonathan Lethem or ) can very much see Brooklyn as a muse to a bigger degree than Whitehead would. Or, I would argue that someone who moved to Brooklyn and spent considerable time there after being born and raised somewhere else would also have a much better appreciation for Brooklyn. When one comes from a suburban hellhole with strip malls and fast food restaurants on every corner, it’s not difficult to adopt Brooklyn as your real home. It’s got character, diversity, history and can be a really, really inspiring place to live. Colson Whitehead grew up in Manhattan, attended a haughty prep school there and I think he’ll always feel more connected to Manhattan than Brooklyn. I find his essay bland.
fantastic essay in the cleveland plain dealer about writing in ohio
There are writers in Brooklyn?
I remember this piece. Tough to gauge throughout whether he’s being glib, sarcastic, trying to be funny, serious, etc. All over the place. Some funny lines. But: “I dig it here and all, but it’s just a place.” Hmm. This sentence stands out. It’s got to be a pose. I guess it’s possible but I’d be surprised if a writer like Whitehead (last book “Sag Harbor” – just a place?) would think place is not important…to live, to work. To Andrew Tolve’s point above. And even if he were not a writer but as a thinking person: just a place. Really? There are even cheaper places to live – in Brooklyn, elsewhere. Condo in Vegas? Detroit? Fort Greene ain’t cheap.
i think so, yes
http://nymag.com/nymetro/realestate/urbandev/features/n_10289/
I guess he left Fort Greene (before this Times piece was published, actually).
First line is great: “I used to live in Fort Greene, and whenever I visit my old neighborhood, I am tormented by the same absurd thought: I should have bought that crack house when I had the chance.”
In the time it was written (2004, mid-bubble), it would have been even funnier.
can someone confirm this
Whitehead (still?). Lethem moving to California. Safran Foer and Krauss.
2, possible 3 at least.
fantastic essay in the cleveland plain dealer about writing in ohio
Jhumpa Lahiri lives in Fort Greene I’m told.
All the cool kids do.
ohio, stand up
Jhumpa Lahiri lives in Fort Greene I’m told.
All the cool kids do.
ohio, stand up