David Rutledge (1)

This is a beautifully made book, an anthology of surprising historical depth. Voices from the 19th and even the 18th century join pre- and post-Katrina writers. It's an honest book, full of deep affection for the city, but not a feel-good book. The contributions by Eve Troeh, especially, were desperately sad. For a long time, I simply couldn't bear to reopen the book and read the end of her second essay in which she spoke of leaving the city to which she had returned so hopefully, no longer able to cope with the violence, the murder of her dear friend and of others she knew, a brutal attack on herself. But there is more to the book than that.

The book includes some colour photographs, and one of the highlights is a selection from the photographic work of Sandra Burshell, who finds beauty in the debris and flotsam of the flood.

The essays are coded with tiny letters and numbers to indicate their location in time and space. I got the idea of the time line, but not being a New Orleanian I could not decode the tiny maps.… (más)

The Book Report: An anthology of writings, commissioned as well as previously publsihed, on the topic of New Orleans as one's homeplace, whether corporeal or spiritual.

My Review: Produced by Chin Music Press's Broken Levee imprint, you know from just that much information that this is a **gorgeous** book to look at, a deeply gruntling book to hold, and a pleasure to read. Hmmm...that pleasure to read bit? If you're not tied emotionally to New Orleans, this book will quite likely bore the socks right off your feet, shoes or no shoes.

I am tied to New Orleans, though, however unwillingly and with whatever angry, grumpy, "my car needs alignment AGAIN?!?!" caveats, tied I am. Once upon a time, I possessed a carriage house on Carondelet Street. It was tiny, but perfect for one person on vacation, which was me a few times here and there. It's still there, but I can't be...can't make the climate work for me for more than a day or two. Still, there is *no*place* like New Orleans. That's either the thing that makes you go back, or makes you late for the airport.

And reading this book? It's a lot like being there. It's gonna work, you just know it is, up until the moment it doesn't anymore, and for no obvious reason (Barbara Bodichon's 1867 selection felt like a glass-cutting tool gone wrong to me, Jennifer Kuchta's piece "Jennie's Grocery: R.I.P" was...well...oddly shaped). But there are more successes than failures (Lolis Elie's piece "Still Live, With Voices", good as always, hey Lolis! Long time no hear, the extraordinarily underknown Tracey Tangerine's loud "In My Face", which alone is worth your $16 purchase), and of course the sheer physical beauty of the thing makes it a must-covet-and-retain for any serious lover of bibliophilic curiosa. The maps...the belly-band...the strange, impractical, not-for-the-marts-of-commerce unlaminated WHITE cover (!!)...all are just, well, wondrous. I adore this press's books. I wish I would win the MegaMillions or whatever so I could give them a big, fat grant to stay in business and even grow some.

But enough. Be warned: Not bit by the Nawlins Vodoun Viper? Don't buy unless you simply can't resist the look of the thing. Already bit? Your soul is gone anyway. Buy it, no regrets.… (más)

Overall, this book is evocative of the ineffableness that is New Orleans. A few of the stories are written well, interesting, and thought-provoking until the last paragraph or two, where they devolve, inexplicably, into Christianity (i.e., Ghostland Sublime).

One of the stories is about a woman who interview people who got tattoos as as result of Katrina with the express purpose to "find God in Everything." When she interviews people who are Christian, she writes at length about their tattoos and the why of getting the tattoos. When the people are expressly nonreligious, they get the equivalent of a glossing over and slight erasing of their experiences and who they are. That essay was disturbing.

Most of the essays cover the dichotomy that is New Orleans; I would recommend most of this book.… (más)