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constanceNote: I ended up skipping yesterday's entry in favor of cursing the existence of Windows operating systems, which I recommend highly as a pastime. I will try to make it up today.
:::
I read a story set in New Orleans the other day. It's stuck with me for a couple of days now; it was a well-written story, and, well, also super-hot, which is awesome. But honestly, the things that are sticking with me aren't so much those things -- well, maybe the hotness -- as the fact that no one seems to be able to write about New Orleans without tapping exclusively into its mythology. Okay, and I know I've complained about this before, and I know that overarching mythology is the reason why people write about it in the first place. But knowing those things doesn't stop me from hoping, every time I begin to read a story set there, that this one will be about the New Orleans that I remember. To that end, here are a few things about New Orleans that only a few people ever get, and fewer people ever write about. If you were thinking about tackling my ex, keep these things in mind, for my sake.
1. New Orleans does not consist solely of the French Quarter. No, I know you don't believe me, but it's true. Not only do neighborhoods exist outside that one small area, but most New Orleanians don't bother to visit the Quarter on a regular basis. It's too inconvenient, too full of tourists, too exposed, too vomitous. Too fucking hot. (On the other hand, it does happen to be very safe, that's something. And it is fun to visit, every now and then.)
2. Most New Orleanians are just, you know, regular people. They don't enact tragedies on their front walks any more than anyone else. They don't live lives of impossible dreaming romance, or of opulent decadence. The humidity does funny things to people, it's perfectly true, but it doesn't turn them all into raving lunatics. (Anne Rice is the exception, rather than the rule.) They are rich and poor and everything in between. They go to work and walk their dogs and shop for groceries, just like you and me.
3. The best restaurants are ones you've never heard of. Of course the food at places like Brennan's and K-Paul's and Antoine's are just fine, but man, the best food in the city is in the most unprepossessing places. Dumps, some of them are. The best food I have ever, ever eaten was in a little ten-table restaurant in the Bywater, way out of anyone's way, killed by Katrina, twelve dollars for two hours of heaven.
4. Only natives get the accent right. It's not a Cajun accent. It's not a southern accent. It's an accent born of the same Irish immigrants who settled places like New York and Boston, and is therefore closer in tone to those places than it is to accents in Mamou, or, for that matter, Meridien. If you're not a native, it's best not to attempt the accent. Seriously.
5. New Orleanians are not all freaking occultists. The vast majority of them are Catholic, sure, but here's a little snippet of info for the untutored: Catholicism, even over-the-top New Orleans-style Catholicism, does not automatically equate to Hoodoo or Vodou or Santeria or what have you.
:::
I read a story set in New Orleans the other day. It's stuck with me for a couple of days now; it was a well-written story, and, well, also super-hot, which is awesome. But honestly, the things that are sticking with me aren't so much those things -- well, maybe the hotness -- as the fact that no one seems to be able to write about New Orleans without tapping exclusively into its mythology. Okay, and I know I've complained about this before, and I know that overarching mythology is the reason why people write about it in the first place. But knowing those things doesn't stop me from hoping, every time I begin to read a story set there, that this one will be about the New Orleans that I remember. To that end, here are a few things about New Orleans that only a few people ever get, and fewer people ever write about. If you were thinking about tackling my ex, keep these things in mind, for my sake.
1. New Orleans does not consist solely of the French Quarter. No, I know you don't believe me, but it's true. Not only do neighborhoods exist outside that one small area, but most New Orleanians don't bother to visit the Quarter on a regular basis. It's too inconvenient, too full of tourists, too exposed, too vomitous. Too fucking hot. (On the other hand, it does happen to be very safe, that's something. And it is fun to visit, every now and then.)
2. Most New Orleanians are just, you know, regular people. They don't enact tragedies on their front walks any more than anyone else. They don't live lives of impossible dreaming romance, or of opulent decadence. The humidity does funny things to people, it's perfectly true, but it doesn't turn them all into raving lunatics. (Anne Rice is the exception, rather than the rule.) They are rich and poor and everything in between. They go to work and walk their dogs and shop for groceries, just like you and me.
3. The best restaurants are ones you've never heard of. Of course the food at places like Brennan's and K-Paul's and Antoine's are just fine, but man, the best food in the city is in the most unprepossessing places. Dumps, some of them are. The best food I have ever, ever eaten was in a little ten-table restaurant in the Bywater, way out of anyone's way, killed by Katrina, twelve dollars for two hours of heaven.
4. Only natives get the accent right. It's not a Cajun accent. It's not a southern accent. It's an accent born of the same Irish immigrants who settled places like New York and Boston, and is therefore closer in tone to those places than it is to accents in Mamou, or, for that matter, Meridien. If you're not a native, it's best not to attempt the accent. Seriously.
5. New Orleanians are not all freaking occultists. The vast majority of them are Catholic, sure, but here's a little snippet of info for the untutored: Catholicism, even over-the-top New Orleans-style Catholicism, does not automatically equate to Hoodoo or Vodou or Santeria or what have you.
no subject
Date: 2008-03-07 05:17 pm (UTC)I've only visited New Orleans once, in the fall of 2006, and we were students on a house-gutting trip. So while I only got a couple of hours of the French Quarter, my impression is just as skewed and inaccurate as the pleasure-tourist experience, because what I know is the Lower 9th, the desertion, the collapsed roofs and fallen trees and the overwhelming smell of a house unbreached since the flood. The sensation of sorting through a stranger's most intimate belongings and deciding what to throw out.
It feels more real, more raw than the Cafe du Monde + saxophone on the corner + palm-reader + carrying alcohol around outside in plastic cups, and so I occasionally find myself presuming that I know N.O. better because of it. But it's still a tiny slice of such a complex whole (and when I was in Poland I was so sad to meet other travelers who were only there for three or five days, and all they chose to see were the concentration camps, so that would be all they remembered of the entire country).
And that's not the New Orleans I want to know or treasure, though it's important and has its place; and I imagine it's not the New Orleans that residents or natives would want me to hold in my mind's eye.