Feed on
Posts
Comments

Category Archive for 'Downtown'

I don’t think Faulkner is worth the antebellum South, and I would rather not have had Kafka at the proce of twentieth-century European carnage. But in trying to locate contemporary American writing I look at the thirties, that supposedly meager decade if misfired artistic energy and of duped intellectuals and bad proletarian novels, and I […]

Read Full Post »

As a man in the 12th Alabama wrote, “we were into it hot and heavy. I thought I had been in hot places before— I thought I had heard Minnie ball; but that day capped the climax.” Once in position the Alabamians stubbornly kept up a steady fire of their own, but they could not advance […]

Read Full Post »

Ignorant of the ways of publicity and chance alike, I’m unsure how these things happen but HiLoBrow.com has just been named by Time magazine’s Best Blogs of the Year . I could make up some things but not that! We’ve been meaning to catch up with WWIB’s  recently elusive publisher, Brian Berger, who doesn’t answer the phone, […]

Read Full Post »

Hi. My name if Rutherford B. Trace, and I’m the new editor of this weblog. I beg pardon from the ongoing series Frederick Douglass In Brooklyn, which I will soon continue, to implore, beseech, encourage and even— in some cases— command all ya’ll who can get near Grand Army Plaza Tuesday June 1 to see the Internets […]

Read Full Post »

IN MEMORY OF FREDERICK DOUGLASS A meeting to honor the memory of Frederick Douglass was held last night in the Concord Baptist Church of Christ on Duffield street. Among the speakers was the Rev. Hiram Hutchins, whose 85 years, it is said, make him the oldest living abolitionist. Others who addressed the meeting included the […]

Read Full Post »

I first saw Mr. Lincoln in the early summer of 1863. I had a special object in seeing him at that time. I had been engaged in raising two regiments of colored men in Massachussetts, the Fifty-fourth and Fifty-fifth. Two of my sons were in those regiments. Jefferson Davis had taken notice of these colored […]

Read Full Post »

He was of all things a typical New Yorker, an Irishman who’d been driving a truck for the Post Office most of his worklife and was now headed for a girl in Denver and a new life. I think he was running away from something in NY, the law most likely. He was a real […]

Read Full Post »

Yugoslav Steward knocks on my door, says “You stay on the ship? Okay?” and goes off into Brooklyn to get drunk with the crew— Alyce and I are waking up, at one A.M., arm in arm in a dreadsome ship, agh— Only one watchman alone on the walk— Everybody drinking in bars of New York. […]

Read Full Post »

“Gad, Easter, where was I?”— “The soft son, the flowers and here I was going down the street and thinking ‘Why did I allow myself to be bored ever in the past and to compensate for it got high or drunk or rages or all the tricks people have because they want anything but serene […]

Read Full Post »

It was dark when Peter got off the subway in Brooklyn. The streets were thronged with people bound for movies, restaurants, bars or just strolling pleasurably in the night and eating hot dogs at the Fulton Street stands. With a feeling of orphan loss and mystery, and a kind of odd, enigmatical consolation, Peter hurried […]

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »