From Publishers Weekly
Frazier (
Great Plains) chronicles his relationship with New York City in this collection of essays from the
New Yorker, the
Atlantic and elsewhere. Kincaid's foreword celebrates her friend's identification with Ohio, but despite the formative importance of his hometown and state, Frazier clearly develops a particular, fond attachment to all the places he comes to know. His essays pile up sensory detail, personalities, stories and history, creating a patina of personal meaning. Whether it's Canal Street in a grittier time, the bus route he takes to his current home in New Jersey or the roundabout way he made it to New York in the first place, Frazier creates a sense of place and of the way people interact with it: a memorial grows up and disintegrates at the site of a fatal shooting; a repairman embodies the history of typewriters; he himself becomes obsessed with removing bags stuck in trees. Some sense of New York is probably necessary to enjoy this collection, but whether one's knowledge is great or slight, Frazier's evocation of the city over three decades is thoughtful, entertaining and occasionally moving, and his own journey from the Midwest to Manhattan, Brooklyn and eventually New Jersey will resonate for many readers.
(Nov. 3) Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
From Booklist
Frazier, a staff writer for the
New Yorker, where many of the punchy yet elegant essays in this collection were previously published, wraps his impressions of the city he loves in prose infused with razor-sharp and self-effacing humor as well as a talent for isolating the telling detail. "Street Scene" is a disturbing sketch--a moment frozen in time--of a woman lying stricken on the street and the attempt to resuscitate her. "Typewriter Man" is a delicious profile of a typewriter repairman--yes, one still exists. "Antipodes" is a reflection on what is at the exact opposite point on the planet from New York City (contrary to what children may believe, he asserts, "There is no point in the United States where, if you drilled straight through the earth, you would come out in China"). And, from an essay about the persistent flow of traffic through Manhattan's Canal Street: "It is a high-energy current jumping constantly between the poles of Brooklyn and New Jersey. It hates to have its flow pinched in the density of Manhattan, hates to stop at an intersection."
Brad HooperCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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