“Cities have sexes: London is a man, Paris is a woman,
and New York is a well-adjusted transsexual.”
- Angela Carter, English Novelist
Sometimes, you just have to rationalize yourself out of a conundrum.
I have been a student of American history for almost sixty years. It fascinates me, infuriates me, and always – always – surprises me.
Over those years, I’ve decided that American history is a mighty river with three tributaries: the first surges with nobility; the second bleeds with tragedy; and the third lurches with farce. They endlessly churn and roil. Love it and/or hate it, the United States sure does put on a great show.
Alas, the farce tributary has dominated lately. There is no shortage of tragedy and nobility, but it’s farce that has the upper hand. It appals me and saddens me.
Many Canadians are disengaging from the United States in protest and disgust. Boycotting travel to the United States is a logical option.
Which brings me to the conundrum I mentioned above. You see, I really DO love New York, with apologies for the overused cliché. So when Bill and I were given the opportunity to spend a few days in a Manhattan loft dog-sitting, I had to think very carefully. Yes, I want to go...but am I abandoning my principles?
What to do? What to do?
Well, I caved and rationalized that New York City really ISN’T part of the United States at all. How convenient is that? Problem solved. We jumped in the car and headed south.
I know – I’m a hypocrite, but there it is. A well intentioned hypocrite, but a hypocrite nonetheless.
And, of course, we had a great time in Manhattan. The city is a photographer’s paradise. Last week, I posted photos from the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s incandescent exhibit, Heavenly Bodies: Fashion and The Catholic Imagination.
This week, I’m posting ten variations on Manhattan clichés, all offered with a fond twinkle of the eye. More to follow next week – and the week after that! Enjoy.