Some 100 years ago Upton Sinclair's novel The Jungle shocked people with its depiction of the horrid life of the have-nots, balanced against the excesses of the corrupt and powerful haves. As a result of Sinclair's book, which exposed deplorable conditions in the meat packing industry, foreign sales of American meat fell in half and the Federal government instituted legislation that led to the passage of laws and the establishment of the FDA. Now comes Underbelly, a non-fiction account of the lives of the homeless and addicted that shines a bright light on a very dark place in our society.
Say the words 'Palm Beach' and you picture a land of wealth and privilege bestowed upon only a select few, a place where rich is practically a religion. But there's another side to this tony enclave and the county that shares its name, one hidden from view, one rarely talked about, a seedy underbelly that you won't read about on the society pages of the Palm Beach Post or in 'the shiny sheet.' In this world, addiction or poverty is the only ticket you need to gain entry. While these two worlds may share the same space, like two positively charged magnets, they never quite touch, propelled away from each other by an invisible force. Underbelly examines this side of Palm Beach.
Underbelly is filled with the stories of people who, by happenstance or poor choices, find themselves part of the sad castoffs of our society, told in their own words, often sad, sometimes heartbreaking, occasionally explicit, and, yes, even funny - but always true. The pictures (some 100) say as much, as they show the hardships of the streets, the suffering in the eyes, the torture to the bodies, and the wasting away of once-promising minds. With this book, these few people, at least, are no longer anonymous faces on the street we turn to avoid. They have names, they have stories, they have hopes and dreams, and their pain is no less meaningful than our own.
