A.J. Liebling digs deeper into New York’s essence by honoring the modern people of the city. Liebling viewed New York not through its history, but through the quirks that makes it a haven to so many people coming from different areas of the world today. One particular passage that really showcases this is his vivid description of the characters he meet in the city:
“I like to think of all the city microcosms so nicely synchronized through unaware of one another: the worlds of the weight-lifters, yodelers, tugboat captains and sideshow barkers, of the book-dutchers, sparring partners, song pluggers, sporting girls and religious painters, of the dealers in rhesus monkeys and the bishops of churches that they establish themselves under the religious corporations of law.”
The view of the city as a microcosm, as a tiny world full of thriving lives oblivious of each other’s existence is a very familiar thought that Liebling shares with many New Yorkers today. This microcosm of various faces and can be seen during commutes on the train, where people avoid others’ gazes despite being merely inches away from each other. There is a sense of freedom in the city that lets this people be—whether they’re religious painters or song pluggers. It’s a kind of freedom attained from New Yorkers who simply cannot care about anything else beyond what is on their daily agenda. As Liebling mentions, there are New Yorkers who die oblivious of their surroundings and history, and there are New Yorkers who rather ignore what they are aware of. Either way, it’s a paradox that defines New York City as the liveliest and loneliest sanctuary in the world.
Nice phrase, lively and lonely.