From Publishers Weekly
Kauffman's memoir of moving back to his hometown of Batavia, N.Y., after a bumpy ride on the Washington, D.C., fast track is a sort of Our Town with attitude. " `Placeism' might be described in the criminal code as the unreasoned love of a particular place, be it a neighborhood, village, city, or even state," Kauffman writes. "[Placeists] believe that one town is not pretty much like the next.... The differences between my Batavia, New York, and your town go well beyond the last names of the night-shift managers at Taco Bell and the Auto Zone." Unlike Garrison Keillor's folksy Lake Wobegon, Kauffman's Batavia is a real town with real problems. Hundreds of miles of its farmland were churned up to accommodate the sprawling New York State Thruway in the 1950s, and the charming five-block downtown was replaced with a shopping mall now "used in urban-planning texts as a case study in disaster." But this witty author of With Good Intentions?: Reflections on the Myth of Progress in America finds what little charm still exists between J.C. Penney and multiple Wendy's outposts and describes it here with terrific humor. Readers will laugh out loud at descriptions of Kauffman's 20th high school reunion and prickly, proud townies. Whether he's delving into upstate history or dipping into his personal palette of local color, Kauffman always stays true to one basic mantra: "Batavia will always let you down, you can never depend on it, but it's home, and that has to be enough."
Copyright 2002 Reed Business Information, Inc.
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From Booklist
As a senatorial flunky on Capitol Hill, the author rued his sense of dislocation and returned to live in his hometown of Batavia, New York. Over the past 15 years, the forty-something author put together this mordant portrait of Batavia, whose distance from poles of power hasn't insulated it from downtown-destroying "progress"--shopping malls, Wal-Marts, big government, and big corporations. A cheerful reactionary, Kauffman inveighs against the forces of homogenization, describing Batavia's history, its leading citizens of yore (including Edna Gruber, philanthropist and brothel keeper), and its buildings, businesses, bush-league baseball team (the Muckdogs), churches, and lifelong residents. In extolling Batavian particularities, Kauffman combines acidic denunciation of civic shortsightedness with affection for the town. This technique has an entrancing effect: the skein of town society, from the habitues of the cafes to the local congressman, unwinds a panoramic civic fabric one can't resist. Kauffman's ode will resonate with those who are discontented with uniform, rootless urbanism.
Gilbert TaylorCopyright © American Library Association. All rights reserved
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