Every time I take the subway uptown to where I am currently staying, I think about the Bronx beyond and I think about Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann and Tilly and Jazzlyn and Phillippe Petit and of course, unforgettable Corrigan who haunts me every now and then. It amazes me how a white Irishman writes so convincingly in the voice of a black prostitute from the streets. Funnily enough, just two days ago, I heard the very line on the subway to Times Square, “I know myself man! I’m from the streets!” which made me laugh just a little inside.
Apparently, it’s not safe for me to visit the Bronx alone so I’ll have to dream of it instead and do what any ignorant fool does, romanticize the hell out of a place based on a book I’ve read.
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