Life In Between F.Z.
This book discusses how it is to live as an "average" person and as a "fat" person, with the caveat that "fat" here is used as a descriptor, not a negative. It is simply an adjective, like "tall," "short," "thin" or "blue eyed." There is no value judgment about size implied in its usage.
The writer talks about different stages in her life when she was heavier and when she was slimmer. The only time she veered into "sort of slim," territory, she tells us, is when she was 12 years old, 5'6, and went down to 123 pounds when she had a bad case of bronchitis (during which time she was nursed and loved back to health by her grandma, mom's mom).
She also discusses her mom's eating disorder and the fact that her mom was one of the five percent for whom dieting mostly worked. Her mom was constantly on a diet and made her feel like a pig when she was eating, it turns out, like most teenagers. Of course the writer dieted, and kept yo yo dieting herself up to 250 pounds, then down again, then up. Until she figured out that it was in her best interests to stop dieting.
But she talks about the times she was "slimmer." To her surprise, there did not seem to be as much difference as she had imagined in the way people treated her when she was "average" sized. She started to realize, slowly, that perhaps it was most important for her to feel better about herself no matter what she weighed.
The lesson took years, but started to sink in. Slowly.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Wednesday, July 9, 2014
Bronx Utopias
"Amalgamated Housing to First Houses: Re-defining Home in America"
Memories and details exist in blogs, films,exhibits and projects, and of course in this thesis by Emma Jacobs (Columbia University, 2009). But the subject badly needs an actual book, narrated by someone who has been there, lived there, felt it.
Oh..hmm. A work of fiction might work even better, one that captured the flavor of the Amalgamated Houses (short for Amalgamated Clothing Workers' Union Houses).
They came into existence in 1927, enabled by the New York State Housing Act of 1926, but born previously in the mind of Abraham Kazan, not only the "father" of cooperative housing in the USA, but also the initiator and creator of other Coop housing projects in NY.
There are no book length bios of Abraham Kazan, either.
In a way, this is shameful. In a way, it's kind of nice to see that there are still important biographies to be written.
There is a wonderful project that is entitled "Bronx Utopia" which describes and houses photos of the four progressive Coop projects built in the Bronx in the 1920's, but each merits a volume of its own: The Amalgamated Houses, the Allerton Ave/Workers' Coops, the Sholom Aleichem/Sholem Aleykhem Houses and the Farband Coop.
This would be the tour I would give...
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
The Death and Life of Great American Cities (by Jane Jacobs) - 2
The Death and Life of Great American Cities (by Jane Jacobs) - 2
In the first part of this blurb/essay, I wrote briefly about some of the contributions that Jane Jacobs made to city/urban planning. She argued for diversity of use, short blocks, judicious planning to achieve the maximum diversity of use possible in a neighborhood. She detailed the complexity of city life, with each participant playing a part in what she labeled the ballet of neighborhood life and usage.
Thus her greatest contribution to urban planning, by far, was the emphasis on complex thinking. In other words: instead of considering each variable in turn as having an/one effect on each other variable, we should think instead of all variables not only influencing every other factor or variable, but that they a) change all the time b) influence every other variable and new ones we may not see, with the effect growing exponentially, the more variables they affect (which in turn introduce other variables, etc. An infinity helix, not just a double.)
A not-very-complex example of complex thinking follows.
Example: The Bright Company wishes to build a bank on 5th Ave. and 25th Street.
Simple One Variable Thinking: People will bank there.
Complex Thinking: There are already five banks in the neighborhood. They all open and close at the same hours. It might be better to house an all night cafe there because there are only three cafes in the adjoining ten blocks, and three of them close at nine. Thus there would be "eyes" on the street later at night, when the banks have shut down and most of the stores have closed. The neighborhood will be safer. This in turn will attract more people into the neighborhood and perhaps even during the day, making the neighborhood safer during that time period as well, and furnishing the population and density for, say, a new theater, which will in turn attract more business to inspire a new all-night restaurant and perhaps cause one of the cafes to stay open until midnight instead of nine.
In other words, Jane Jacobs actually understood the way cities work. They don't function in a vacuum. They function as living organisms which are receiving new cells and energy daily, hourly, by the minute, sloughing off old cells and creating new energies.
In the first part of this blurb/essay, I wrote briefly about some of the contributions that Jane Jacobs made to city/urban planning. She argued for diversity of use, short blocks, judicious planning to achieve the maximum diversity of use possible in a neighborhood. She detailed the complexity of city life, with each participant playing a part in what she labeled the ballet of neighborhood life and usage.
Thus her greatest contribution to urban planning, by far, was the emphasis on complex thinking. In other words: instead of considering each variable in turn as having an/one effect on each other variable, we should think instead of all variables not only influencing every other factor or variable, but that they a) change all the time b) influence every other variable and new ones we may not see, with the effect growing exponentially, the more variables they affect (which in turn introduce other variables, etc. An infinity helix, not just a double.)
A not-very-complex example of complex thinking follows.
Example: The Bright Company wishes to build a bank on 5th Ave. and 25th Street.
Simple One Variable Thinking: People will bank there.
Complex Thinking: There are already five banks in the neighborhood. They all open and close at the same hours. It might be better to house an all night cafe there because there are only three cafes in the adjoining ten blocks, and three of them close at nine. Thus there would be "eyes" on the street later at night, when the banks have shut down and most of the stores have closed. The neighborhood will be safer. This in turn will attract more people into the neighborhood and perhaps even during the day, making the neighborhood safer during that time period as well, and furnishing the population and density for, say, a new theater, which will in turn attract more business to inspire a new all-night restaurant and perhaps cause one of the cafes to stay open until midnight instead of nine.
In other words, Jane Jacobs actually understood the way cities work. They don't function in a vacuum. They function as living organisms which are receiving new cells and energy daily, hourly, by the minute, sloughing off old cells and creating new energies.
Saturday, June 28, 2014
The Death and Life of Great American Cities
The Death and Life of Great American Cities
Until the late 1950's, most city/urban planners in the USA were architects. Most schools blueprinted plans that indeed had cultural and sociological implications, but either couldn't or refused to see that their biases had stark implications for the kinds of buildings and cities they envisioned. It wasn't until the late fifties, when sociologists became involved in questions of urban ethnicity and neighborhood richness and viability that cities were seen as more than collections of buildings, parks,streets, stores, traffic patterns and transportation grids.
Jane Jacobs, who never received a degree in architecture or urban planning, but whose freelance writing on urban neighborhoods took her to most of them, and many not visited by the owners and managers of the journals for which she wrote, saw something at work that she first labeled "weird wisdom" - people staying safe and content in areas which were labeled "slums" by urban planners. She went on to figure out what really made cities work: not high rises, random green spaces or rich people, and especially not areas which emphasized only one kind of spatial and time-marked use. Rather, the areas which seemed to work best for cities and city people were those that included short blocks, a variety of architecture, a variety of uses, a lack of one-usage zoning, and green spaces integrated into their neighborhoods.
Cities, she felt, especially city streets and areas, had to create diversity by helping it along in zoning. If there were too many buildings of one kind or one use, cities had to factor in different uses and help by welcoming other uses, and without labeling uses as immoral. Bars, for instance, could actually could serve as welcome spots for relaxation and natural anchors and eyes for night time travelers on their streets. On the other hand, if businesses such as banks proliferated in an area, they left little space for other uses, cross use, and night time use.
She compared cities to puzzles and city street orders to dances. She made urban planners and city dwellers aware that those who could only see building in terms of one or two variables (calling Robert Moses!) were destroying the natural, useful and healthy density of cities, neighborhoods and streets.
Jacobs, who loved Greenwich Village and, along with her husband, owned a building on Houston Street, left the USA in 1968 in order to make sure that her sons would not be drafted into the Vietnam War. From Toronto, she continued to work for diversity and natural density in cities, neighborhoods and streets.
The Death and Life of Great American Cities is now required reading in urban planning and urban sociology classes.
Until the late 1950's, most city/urban planners in the USA were architects. Most schools blueprinted plans that indeed had cultural and sociological implications, but either couldn't or refused to see that their biases had stark implications for the kinds of buildings and cities they envisioned. It wasn't until the late fifties, when sociologists became involved in questions of urban ethnicity and neighborhood richness and viability that cities were seen as more than collections of buildings, parks,streets, stores, traffic patterns and transportation grids.
Jane Jacobs, who never received a degree in architecture or urban planning, but whose freelance writing on urban neighborhoods took her to most of them, and many not visited by the owners and managers of the journals for which she wrote, saw something at work that she first labeled "weird wisdom" - people staying safe and content in areas which were labeled "slums" by urban planners. She went on to figure out what really made cities work: not high rises, random green spaces or rich people, and especially not areas which emphasized only one kind of spatial and time-marked use. Rather, the areas which seemed to work best for cities and city people were those that included short blocks, a variety of architecture, a variety of uses, a lack of one-usage zoning, and green spaces integrated into their neighborhoods.
Cities, she felt, especially city streets and areas, had to create diversity by helping it along in zoning. If there were too many buildings of one kind or one use, cities had to factor in different uses and help by welcoming other uses, and without labeling uses as immoral. Bars, for instance, could actually could serve as welcome spots for relaxation and natural anchors and eyes for night time travelers on their streets. On the other hand, if businesses such as banks proliferated in an area, they left little space for other uses, cross use, and night time use.
She compared cities to puzzles and city street orders to dances. She made urban planners and city dwellers aware that those who could only see building in terms of one or two variables (calling Robert Moses!) were destroying the natural, useful and healthy density of cities, neighborhoods and streets.
Jacobs, who loved Greenwich Village and, along with her husband, owned a building on Houston Street, left the USA in 1968 in order to make sure that her sons would not be drafted into the Vietnam War. From Toronto, she continued to work for diversity and natural density in cities, neighborhoods and streets.
The Death and Life of Great American Cities is now required reading in urban planning and urban sociology classes.
Monday, June 16, 2014
Favorite book that should be pulled from the shelves
Prodigal Women, by Nancy Hale, is one of my favorite books. It tells the story of three women who live in a suburb of Boston in the 1920's and experience love in dangerous and difficult ways. They eventually find their ways back to wholeness and self-understanding.
It was pulled from the shelves of a library a few years back. Should it have been? My answer is yes.
The book contains the line "operated by a reeking colored boy."
Once upon a time this line would not have drawn much notice. Stereotypes were not challenged, and calling an African-American man "reeking" and "boy" was not met with much notice. "Colored" was considered a polite way (sort of) to refer to black people then, although somehow it sours my stomach. Hindsight? Maybe.
But the implication that a black person would smell simply cannot be excused, even when the author wrote it in the 1920's. Generally "accepted"? In some circles. Angrily and rightfully criticized? Yes, in some circles.
"Boy" was of course also used often to refer to black men. The implication that they are and were not mature enough to be called "men" or perhaps deserved to be addressed in the tone that would imply some kind of hierarchy, as opposed to not being addressed at all, was more prevalent in the South, but was certainly not exclusively its property. And "property" was the thought directly in back of this entire phrase, that this black man was "owned" by someone, or had been in the recent past.
And this, in short, is why even though this book is one of my favorites, and remains one of my favorites, I am glad that it was pulled. I hate the idea of having readers assume that a) this kind of stereotype fit the description of any or many black people in the 1920's, and that b) there were not enough people who despised such descriptions at the time the book was written.
As with many books that seem to express or perpetuate negative stereotypes of ethnic and racial groups, many of us make our very shaky peace fraught with ambivalence and caveats.
I am glad I read Prodigal Women. I am also glad that it will not see this particular library's shelves again.
It was pulled from the shelves of a library a few years back. Should it have been? My answer is yes.
The book contains the line "operated by a reeking colored boy."
Once upon a time this line would not have drawn much notice. Stereotypes were not challenged, and calling an African-American man "reeking" and "boy" was not met with much notice. "Colored" was considered a polite way (sort of) to refer to black people then, although somehow it sours my stomach. Hindsight? Maybe.
But the implication that a black person would smell simply cannot be excused, even when the author wrote it in the 1920's. Generally "accepted"? In some circles. Angrily and rightfully criticized? Yes, in some circles.
"Boy" was of course also used often to refer to black men. The implication that they are and were not mature enough to be called "men" or perhaps deserved to be addressed in the tone that would imply some kind of hierarchy, as opposed to not being addressed at all, was more prevalent in the South, but was certainly not exclusively its property. And "property" was the thought directly in back of this entire phrase, that this black man was "owned" by someone, or had been in the recent past.
And this, in short, is why even though this book is one of my favorites, and remains one of my favorites, I am glad that it was pulled. I hate the idea of having readers assume that a) this kind of stereotype fit the description of any or many black people in the 1920's, and that b) there were not enough people who despised such descriptions at the time the book was written.
As with many books that seem to express or perpetuate negative stereotypes of ethnic and racial groups, many of us make our very shaky peace fraught with ambivalence and caveats.
I am glad I read Prodigal Women. I am also glad that it will not see this particular library's shelves again.
Monday, June 9, 2014
Grammar errors and ambiguity
Grammar and ambiguity
I am about to get what some might consider nitpicky/nitpickety.
"Corcoran and her fellow researchers found plastiglomerates on more than 20 sites across Kamilo Beach, and they believe they could probably found on beaches around the world.'
Typo? Maybe. Grammar error? Maybe. Whatever it is, I resent it. Sure, the author might
have meant to say, "probably find more." But by the same token, she might have meant to write, "probably have found more." One means that they are still finding or in the process of finding plastiglomerates, our new human calling card. The other means that they have finished. The project is a done deal. No more rushing off to beaches to encounter, record and analyze plastiglomerates.
And did she mean to write "more?" "Many more?" "A whole caseload and basket more?" "A bushel and a peck more?" "Most assuredly more?" "Unquestionably a great deal more?"
Many grammar errors don't make it impossible to understand the writer's words. But they introduce a degree of ambiguity. Why take the chance that half of your readers will interpretyour sentence one way, and the other half will read an entirely different meaning? Worst of all, why leave readers straddling two or more possible meanings, or making your sentence a cousin of Schrodinger's cat?
And worst of all: why do I have to do the work of interpreting a sentence. the meaning of
which should have been crystal clear? The last time I looked, I was not being paid to
interpret another writer's sentence. I don't want to get stuck doing another writer's work.
Unless, of course, I were to get paid.
"Corcoran and her fellow researchers found plastiglomerates on more than 20 sites across Kamilo Beach, and they believe they could probably found on beaches around the world.'
Typo? Maybe. Grammar error? Maybe. Whatever it is, I resent it. Sure, the author might
have meant to say, "probably find more." But by the same token, she might have meant to write, "probably have found more." One means that they are still finding or in the process of finding plastiglomerates, our new human calling card. The other means that they have finished. The project is a done deal. No more rushing off to beaches to encounter, record and analyze plastiglomerates.
And did she mean to write "more?" "Many more?" "A whole caseload and basket more?" "A bushel and a peck more?" "Most assuredly more?" "Unquestionably a great deal more?"
Many grammar errors don't make it impossible to understand the writer's words. But they introduce a degree of ambiguity. Why take the chance that half of your readers will interpretyour sentence one way, and the other half will read an entirely different meaning? Worst of all, why leave readers straddling two or more possible meanings, or making your sentence a cousin of Schrodinger's cat?
And worst of all: why do I have to do the work of interpreting a sentence. the meaning of
which should have been crystal clear? The last time I looked, I was not being paid to
interpret another writer's sentence. I don't want to get stuck doing another writer's work.
Unless, of course, I were to get paid.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Like a good wine
Sometimes I like to contemplate the process by which someone's interesting life turns into a very interesting novel. It is definitely not a straight line from Point A to Point B. In order to turn into a novel, the material has to sit for a while, like a good wine that will be aged in casks of mellow oak. Two strange things have to occur. As more flavors enter into good wines when they are stored, more lives have to enter the mix. Then something semi-mythic has to frame them. It is as if they have to ascend to a higher register, the essence of what they are, but now fictitious. Again, like wine when it acquires its defining note. The truths they tell have to become larger, stranger, sometimes menacing and threatening, with a dangerous beauty. And I am not talking about the characters, who may or may not be menacing or strange. The character has to transform somehow before it reaches fictional maturity, which is not at all the same as being mature as a human being. Fictional maturity occurs when a character achieves an inward consistency, which means that her stamp is present in the way she acts and does and is in all of the novel. "Fully realized" is another, older way of saying this.
Conversely, as hard as you try to write someone's life and think you are being "faithful" to its events and occurrences, it becomes fiction the minute the words hit the page. Somehow, in just trying to write what someone is about, you enter the realm of fiction because you are writing at a remove of years, and there are many many reasons why someone may or may not have done something, worn something, said something, thought something. You are in essence making choices at each step of the way in portraying someone. And if you write someone and make certain choices, you might make completely different choices in writing him the next day.
This is also why most "real" accounts of something or someone are a kind of fiction, as well.
Conversely, as hard as you try to write someone's life and think you are being "faithful" to its events and occurrences, it becomes fiction the minute the words hit the page. Somehow, in just trying to write what someone is about, you enter the realm of fiction because you are writing at a remove of years, and there are many many reasons why someone may or may not have done something, worn something, said something, thought something. You are in essence making choices at each step of the way in portraying someone. And if you write someone and make certain choices, you might make completely different choices in writing him the next day.
This is also why most "real" accounts of something or someone are a kind of fiction, as well.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)