Literary Trips 2023

Recently I updated my book Community: Journal of Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen on Amazon and Draft2Digital with more than 20 photographs of my life in New York City, along with editing and a few additions. Here are two photos from the book.

That’s me and my first cat in NYC, 1982.

David Dinkins, who would later be elected mayor, and Peter Yarrow singing and playing guitar, on a campaign bus on Ninth Avenue near West 42nd Street, NYC, 1985. Photograph by Mary Clark.

When I lived in New York, the world came to me. Now that I am old and gray and live far away, I don’t meet new people and have adventures much anymore – except in books. Here are some of the Literary Trips I took in 2023.

Landlines: The Remarkable Story of a Thousand Mile Journey Across Britain, by Raynor Winn. I hiked along with her and her husband through dust and rain, across bogs and up mountains, immersed in the environment, and appreciating her humor and perseverance. After this book, I read her first book, The Salt Path, about their walk along the South West Coast Path in southern England. This book will be a classic, I think. Her second book, The Wild Silence, which I’m reading now, is about the time after that walk.

The Last Wilderness: A Journey into Silence, by Neil Ansell. A trek through the “Rough Bounds” of Scotland. Wetness abounds whether rain or “lochan” or the sea. This book may be for afficionados of nature writing, but I liked it for its straightforward approach. Ansell gives the reader a new view of what we call wilderness, how little of it is really left, but also its resilience.

The Seed Keeper, by Diane Wilson. The story of the Dakota (Dakhóta) people who lived in Minnesota, specifically, of Rosalie Iron Wing, a girl who was placed in foster care with white families after her father’s death, and later married a white farmer. She found seeds in his cellar, which had been kept by his mother. A parallel story tells of her female ancestors, how they and their families were removed from their land and taken west to reservations. The women kept the seeds so they could plant them wherever they went, an act of survival. An informative story, with occasional pedantic passages, but one worth reading. Foreword by Robin Wall Kimmerer.

Showboat and Fanny Herself, by Edna Ferber. Showboat is not a novel in the usual sense, it meanders about, much like the Mississippi River it takes place upon. It is unforgettable. And I’d take that trip again! Fanny Herself is an expose of being Jewish in America, and as with Showboat, of the diversity and tensions of American life. Great trips through the Midwest. Both books are important documents of this country, and of the city of Chicago, as is another of her books, So Big.

Shadows on the Rock, by Willa Cather. A lovely book, a mood poem that presents a simple story of a father and daughter and the history of Quebec City. Although there’s little action, her writing carried me along. Weather is the great character here. I felt completely immersed in this place. It’s as if I’ve been to that part of Canada in the 1690s.

Take What You Can Carry: A Novel, by Gian Sardar. A naïve American woman travels with her Kurdish boyfriend to Iraq in the early days of Saddam Hussein’s rise to power. She begins to realize the danger they are in but tries to keep her sense of normal life as the Kurdish village and her boyfriend’s family come under attack. She forms a bond with a young, orphaned girl. He decides to stay to protect his family, while she returns to the U.S. That’s not how it ends, but no spoilers!

No Longer at Ease, by Chinua Achebe. I’ve read all three books of the African Trilogy now. The first one, Things Fall Apart, is the most interesting as it describes life before and just as European colonization begins. He gives us a clear picture of the transformation across time. The feeling of disconnection is palpable in his main characters. 

Shadows on the Grass, by Isak Dinesen. Africa from the colonial point of view, but with an outlier’s sense of things. She buys into some stereotypes, but not the one that says this is really her land. She knows she can never physically return, but her heart and soul remain there. This short book wraps up her relationships with people she knew when she had a farm in Kenya. Dinesen (Karen Blixen) is one-of-a-kind, giving us some of our most illuminating word adventures. Out of Africa is a classic, but my favorite book of hers will always be Seven Gothic Tales.

Another book by a strong-willed woman, African Stories, by Doris Lessing, is also worth reading for its beautiful language and point of view, which can be juxtaposed with the beautiful language and different points of view of native African writers.

How Beautiful We Were: A Novel, by Imbolo Mbue. People in a fictional African village struggle to survive as their land and crops are destroyed and the water and air are polluted by an American oil company. Those who protest or dare to speak to authorities disappear; some are imprisoned, and others executed by the African government which is in cahoots with the oil company. The villagers meet with representatives of the oil company but attempts to resolve issues are ultimately undermined by the company, the government, and a few of their own leaders. Getting their story out to the world seems the only way. Several people risk everything to save the village, but it may be too late.

Three Girls from Bronzeville: A Uniquely American Memoir of Race, Fate, and Sisterhood, by Dawn Turner. Three black girls from the Chicago projects become friends. Their journeys begin to diverge as they grow into adulthood. One girl pursues an education and a career, while the other two have trouble finding their way. They rely on one another for the kind of support only found among friends. There’s a history of the area, along with descriptions of the projects as new and later falling into disrepair as the social fabric also disintegrates, which is woven into the story.

Telling Sonny: A Novel, by Elizabeth Gauffreau. A young woman goes on a journey through the Eastern United States, especially New England, with her new husband who performs in a theater group. This is a time when carnivals and traveling theater were the only entertainments available to people. Train stations, hotels, and theaters form her life of passing through. Everything is transient including her relationship with her husband. He married her out of obligation after basically “taking advantage” (as people used to say, and I add to that, there is and was no sense of guilt) of her one lonely evening. The marriage breaks up; she returns to her little town with a son. What can she tell her son when she learns his father has died?

Not all my journeys were as satisfying. The books I was disappointed in:

Commonwealth, by Ann Patchett. The “secret” is not a surprise, the whole story not that interesting. I think she missed an opportunity to delve into gun violence and mishaps that take so many children’s lives.

Death Comes for the Archbishop, by Willa Cather. This reminds me of a textbook in a history class. For her great work, see her books in the O, Pioneer Series, in particular, My Antonia.

A Sand County Almanac, by Aldo Leopold. I didn’t finish it. Early essays about flora and fauna are good but become repetitive. His ideas about conservation were ground-breaking (ha ha) at the time, but not now.

The Last Gift, by Abdulrazak Gurnah. Again, the surprise isn’t surprising. Depictions of life in his home country are the best parts. I will read another of his books, one set in Africa or Madagascar.

The Magic Kingdom, by Russell Banks. The real story is more interesting. Why he left Carrie Nation out of his fictionalized account is unfathomable. I lived in this area of Florida and knew all along the section he was describing was NOT the one that was bought by the Walt Disney Company. I enjoyed his writing about the land and waterscape of Central Florida. However, the story of the early utopian experiments in America are important to understanding American history. Maybe best to read the original sources?

Wishing everyone a peaceful and prosperous New Year!

Seasons

Three passages from my books about the changes we experience as we grow and age, through the seasons, from spring to summer wine to fall and winter (w)rapture. Prose to accompany photos I took over the years in Manhattan, New York City.

Eighth Avenue looking south from West 46th Street

From Community:

Whenever I walk down the avenue, and it’s quiet like this, I hear a sound like a river or a loving sigh, a song like a dream, music of the dawn of an era and its end. And how the area is filled with people from across America and the world, singers, dancers, actors, cabdrivers, ushers, senators, sailors, lovers, fighters, dreamers, re-filling these tenements and churches and temples and schools, and in the end, the world comes around.

Ninth Avenue at West 44th Street looking southeast. This view of the Empire State Building is blocked now by development on West 42nd Street. The original photo is lost apparently; this one was in my newspaper.

From Passages:

Years ago, I was waiting for the sun. I’ve found it now, thrown myself into its aura. In daylight, the city is awash with steam and grit, waves of alarm and subterranean booms, bones in the soft crushing crowds, metal gliding and banging against sudden turns, all carrying me along, a willing cork in turbulence.

On another plane, the city unfolds as a spiraled lotus, enticing me into its petaled paths toward new vistas and seemingly infinite realms.

I’m in the vortex of the “crossroads of the world.” Midtown Manhattan splays light, white hot, ruthless, spurring us on. Multi-tiered buildings promise many directions, redirections.

As darkness falls, a change in design. Shadow and light, revolving signs, blinking messages. Mischief, dreams, endless interaction. And a change in timbre. Sweat cools but heat remains, passion finds its channels. The lotus in shadow and light, revolving.

And rising neon and fluorescent, the midnight sun of Times Square.

From Into The Fire:

West 46th Street past Ninth Avenue, St. Clement’s Church on the right with green spire, January 1996

Miles to go, miles of snow, a transfigured night and all in sight covered in a winding sheet of white. Stopping at a snowy Ninth Avenue, face and hands wrapped against the wind, my poetic license in the back pocket of my blue jeans, I contemplated the divide before me.

The city streets were deserted, and I was alone in the canyoned silence. Ice-crystals glittered in streetlights, snow camel-backed cars and fenced sidewalks. On the avenue’s arctic slope, deep within the haunting sound of a muted city I could hear gypsy cabs snorting dragon-breath in the dark, and I would have stayed to watch fringes of icicles on fire escapes glow in the dying light.

🙂 But I had promises to keep.

Happy Summer! See you in July.

Writing Time

Photo by Mary Clark

Headlights’ warmth chases
winter’s chill, erases shadows
fleeting night blazes

  • The Bench Poems, by Mary Clark

Hello, fellow bloggers and readers. I’ve been busy on two books for a few months (or many). Some of you know, as you have read at least one of them. Thank you! Every writer needs readers that will tell them when they’re on track and when they’ve sped off into the wilderness.

The first project was a revisit to Community, a memoir released last year. The revised version will be available soon. In it I venture to “wax poetic” now and then just to brighten the tone of the story. I like sunsets, but the rosy dawn is also beautiful.

The second project is the book I was working on last year: Passages. It’s been through several reincarnations. Hopefully, it will be ready for prime time in the near future – though I harbor hope for a publisher, and so time will tell.

Reading has taken a lot of my time as well. Among the books I enjoyed and – or would recommend:

Horse, by Geraldine Brooks.

She shows the way thoroughbred racing is intertwined with American history, specifically, with racism. The use of black grooms and trainers, many enslaved, to care for these horses, and their depictions in paintings of the pre-Civil War era, is told so well I felt I knew the men and the artists. Our current history appears in a parallel story. She is deft at describing the changes in thought and language that accompany the honest examination of racism in the U.S. And when stereotypes can surprise us, whether white or black. The horses are characters with personalities, too. The central horse, Lexington, is gifted and used to enrich his owners, while also rising above them to become a legend.

Angel Landing, by Alice Hoffman.

When I was reading this, I asked myself, when is this? No one had cell phones. People were collecting change for the bus. It’s old times, but I realized, within my lifetime. I can remember (dimly) those days. The book was published in 1980. That doesn’t mean it’s not relevant. Because it is, very. The story takes place in a small village on Long Island, once a hopping seaside town and now forgotten as people moved to the trendier places. Another reason it’s not a big draw is the large nuclear power plant, Angel Landing, clearly visible on a point of land nearby. A young woman, Natalie, returns to her aunt Minnie’s (Minnie is a live wire) boarding house (now empty) in the town, with her activist upper-crust boyfriend bunking in an office where he can work on his anti-nuclear cause nonstop. As she sits in her aunt’s house she notices the sky turning color. Later, an explosion. There’s been an accident at the plant. I won’t say more, but this story is an oddly surreal, moody, wandering journey to self-realization. While it’s set in the “old times,” it’s modern in many ways. Now I find it lingers in my memory.

Our Missing Hearts, by Celeste Ng.

As we face potential conflict with China, this book takes on the issues of nationalism, fear-mongering, “patriot laws,” family separation, and the ease with which a democratic republic can become a dystopian society. A pandemic followed by economic hardship and riots is blamed on China, and all Chinese people in the U.S. are suspect. Books are banned, protests quashed, laws are passed limiting Chinese-American freedoms (education, employment, travel), and ultimately, the government reaches into family life, taking children from parents who might taint them with un-American ideas. A mixed couple find themselves caught up in the hysteria. This book raises vital questions about the direction of our country, and any country that still calls itself a democarcy.

Mary Clark on Mastodon Social

End of Year Sale of Two of My eBooks

Two of my ebooks are on sale now through January 1, 2022 on Smashwords.

Both 50% off, multiple formats

Community: Journal of Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen

Community is a memoir of community work and politics in Manhattan during the turbulent 1980s and 1990s as one of the city’s oldest neighborhoods fights the effects of “development fever” and the illegal drug trade. Meanwhile, ambitious politicians vie for dominance behind the scenes. 

Racing The Sun

Leila Payson’s adventures in the present and the future continue as she deals with a new man in her life, her eclectic crew of friends, and a possible career change. There’s accidents, wheelchair races, and love tours. Lives are impacted by DNA matches, surrogate mothers, and cults, as well as love and friendship. For Leila and her friends, the horizon beckons. Volume 2 of The Horizon Seekers.

Interview and Review: Mary Clark’s Community

Fellow writer, reviewer and blogger Kelley Kay Bowles kindly did this interview with me in June 2021. She writes cozy mysteries and advice for parents. You may visit her website at: https://kelleykaybowles.com/

Community: Journal of Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen by Mary Clark

INTERVIEW

1. What made you choose to get involved in this issue, these politics?

That’s what I talk about in my book, “Into The Fire: A Poet’s Journey through Hell’s Kitchen.” It’s a prequel to “Community.” Before I became involved in neighborhood issues and eventually, New Yok City politics, I was working in arts program at a midtown church. We put on weekly poetry readings and special events, including benefits for causes and theatrical productions. The more time I spent at the church, the more I came to know the neighborhood outside its doors. Friendships began which lasted many years. The church sent me as its liaison to the block association. The problems facing the community intrigued me. How could I help? People I met encouraged me to join other civic organizations. The amazing part was the timing. Just then, major proposals to revitalize Times Square, Columbus Circle, the Convention Center, and the Hudson River waterfront came from private developers, the city, and the state. The groups I had joined were front and center in negotiating with the developers, government agencies, and elected officials about these proposals. I felt I was using my time, my skills in reading and writing, and organizing events, for a beneficial purpose. In that neighborhood, I had found my first home as an adult. The people made me feel welcome and valued. I wanted to give back. That’s why I decided to become involved in working with a variety of people and groups. 

2. Tell us some other issues you’ve gotten involved in over the years.

When I left NYC in 2004, I moved to Central Florida to join my parents. There I became a member of the Kissimmee Valley Audubon Society. My parents had been active in that group, but my father especially was no longer able to participate much. KVAS was looking for a goal to pursue in 2005. My mother and I talked about what the group could do. We devised a plan to protect the large lake in the area (Lake Toho). When Osceola County began work on its ten-year Comprehensive Plan (which every locality in the country must do), Florida Audubon asked KVAS to make a statement at the County Commission meeting. Since I had been appointed Conservation Chair, I agreed to do that. I spoke about the lake and preserving water resources for human benefit as well as for eagles and other birds. 

Read more on her blog.

Community, Why Is It Important?

Community. Why is it important? How do we keep it? Through the years our bonds can wane, resentments form, and agendas become more important than the original goals of creating and preserving a better space for everyone. In the pressure-cooker of a neighborhood, whether in New York or a small town, rumors and personal wish-lists can ruin a community, no matter how great its history.

Amazon has been offering the paperback of Community: Journal of Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen at a significant discount for weeks, and recently began discounting the Kindle too. 

The story begins with a naïve group deciding to take on the most powerful people and corporations in the city of New York. With nothing but their minds and love for their neighbors they manage to hold the line for many years.

What you’ll also find is the transformation of politics into a form of take-no-prisoners “war” as the 1980s move into the 1990s. In this atmosphere Rudolph Giuliani, Donald Trump (both mentioned in the narrative), and Andrew Cuomo began their careers. Other politicians such as Congressman Ted Weiss and Mayor David Dinkins are shown working in an alternative way.

The book is the story of my 15 years in community advocacy, and to some degree, NYC politics. It all began on a sunny summer day.

Development Fever

The city and state proposed a complete makeover of Times Square, the world-famous intersection of Broadway and Seventh Avenue with 42nd Street. The redevelopment would run from that crossroads along West 42nd Street to Eighth Avenue. The project rode on the back of eminent domain (I envisioned an armor-clad knight carrying a lance), along the way razing the Times Tower and raising office towers on 42nd Street. The blighted, crime-filled area would be transformed into a shining mecca of entertainment and corporate wealth.

In our view, the massive project was a spear aimed at our neighborhood. It would drive up real estate values, increase tenant harassment, and potentially force out low, moderate, and middle-income residents. Even though there was a specific zoning district, the Special Clinton District, restricting high-rise development in most of Hell’s Kitchen north of West 42nd Street, speculators and unscrupulous landlords would seize this opportunity to turn the neighborhood into towers of condo-heaven.

A few people (Rob and Barbara) started the Clinton Coalition of Concern. My new acquaintance, Jim Condeelis, and I were at the first brainstorming meeting at Housing Conservation Coordinators, a local non-profit.

The Times Square project, we agreed, would place a great deal of pressure on our low-rise, working-class, and middle-class neighborhood.

“They won’t stop at Eighth Avenue. Developers will want to build here in our neighborhood.”

“Landlords will harass people out of their apartments so they can sell their buildings unoccupied.”

“They’ll try to change the zoning and get rid of the Special District.”

Our objections to the redevelopment project itself went down different avenues. We agreed that eminent domain should be used for the general good, but what is “the good” in this case? The people who would benefit were the already wealthy. Property was being taken from one group of private owners and given to another. Perhaps in several ways this was an illegal use of eminent domain.

The group decided to hold a public rally to inform people about the project and its impact on the neighborhood.

On June 27th, the Clinton Coalition of Concern held a “Speakout” and 150 people came, as well as Ruth Messinger, Councilwoman for our district, and Andrew Stein, the Manhattan Borough President. The state’s Urban Development Company (UDC), one of the lead agencies, sent people. I took charge of the sign-in table, handing out literature and asking people to sign a petition opposing the project.

Days later at HCC, Barbara Glasser and I, with some help from Jim, put together a mailing for the Clinton Coalition of Concern, telling people we were fighting UDC’s proposal for redeveloping Times Square. We had already been to meetings with Andrew Stein’s office and City Comptroller Harrison Goldin’s office. We were working on an alternative plan.

Barbara and I talked about the impact of our strategy. Channel 5 news had showed us and others in the Clinton Coalition of Concern protesting the development plan; we watched it at HCC the next day; Gil Annoual, another member, had taped it for us. A small group went to the UDC Board meeting to speak against the Times Square Redevelopment Project. Rob was our spokesperson, then Bill Stern of UDC read a statement, then we spoke again until Barbara screamed, and we had to leave.

Praise for Community

“Local democracy in action, with its virtuous aims and outcomes, its frustrations and machinations. The memoir is comprehensive, articulate, honest and engaging.” David Selzer, poet and playwright, Great Britain

“The writing is fabulous, the cast of characters, the depth of detail, the nuance, the way her personal journey is woven into all these events, it’s a substantial achievement.” Kathleen Mandeville, Ignivox, USA

“The narrative is pacy, as there are new developments, meetings, and possibilities on every page. There’s much of a novel’s presentation in this memoir.” And “It’s great that you have put down an entire account of some years of activism in one neighborhood. I liked what you said about how you always esteemed the constructive approach over the agitationist or acrimonious one since the former is about value, the latter is often a power game with goals unrelated to the general good.” Satyam Balakrishnan, Brand Communications Strategist and Writer, India

“She saw, and concurrently worked to create an historic Manhattan skyline that wasn’t all about money and power politics. Throughout her memoir Community, the reader gets a firsthand view of the people, the arguments, discussions, and compromises happening during some of New York City’s biggest changes of the past fifty years. From an outsider looking in, it is a fascinating journey.” Kelley Kaye Bowles, author, USA

This is Not My First Pandemic

In my book, Community, the word “AIDS’ appears 54 times. Our midtown New York City neighborhood was hard hit by the AIDS epidemic. In November 1985 the local hospital, St. Clare’s, opened the first state-designated AIDS unit. Many of the patients were uninsured. People were unprepared for this disease, which was found in other countries as well. A true pandemic, HIV/AIDS continues to infect millions around the world.

In the 1980s it killed people I knew, neighbors and co-workers, in the city and the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood. For several years, we didn’t know how it was transmitted. We didn’t know what the stages were. People were afraid to be near a person with AIDS, to shake their hands, or breathe the same air. Then it seemed only certain people got AIDS: gay men, drug addicts, and sex workers. As with COVID-19, many people felt they were not at risk. They were wrong. It killed people in all walks of life, all ages, rich and poor, black and brown and white. One was a postal worker in my building, another an innovative developer, and another the head of a major homeless services organization.

Initially, the gay community was hit hard. My personal experience with AIDS began with a young man who lived in the apartment next door, whose mother came up from South Carolina to be with him in his last weeks. I saw the sores on his legs, his wasted body. A friend had a neighbor going through the same thing, another young guy with his life before him; his parents came to be with him, too. Another young man, Frank Clemmons, had started out in community activism at the same time I did. When Frank told me he had AIDS, it was just before going into a community meeting. We were in the Art Deco main hall of the McGraw-Hill Building on West 42nd Street, green and gold motif, decorated elevators around the corner at the far end.

Several years later, I dreamed I was in the elevator at the McGraw-Hill building. Muted light. Green, gold. Quiet. The elevator operator was a cab driver-philosopher. Going up was against the gravity of my mind, coming down we slipped 1-2-3 floors. Then 6 and 7, then 17. Fast. I stood watching the lights, the floor numbers flashing by. Wondered if I should care, say anything. Time slipped away.

I said, isn’t there anything you can do?

I saw a notice in a newsletter that Frank Clemmons had died in February, 1996.

Frank had been the Chelsea Reform Club’s “district leader from 1989-1991. Frank served on Community Board 4, Area Policy Board 4, and as a board member of NYS Gay & Lesbian Lobby—the predecessor of the Empire State Agenda. He was also a strong supporter and fundraiser for the Gay Men’s Chorus and a member of the Gay and Lesbian Independent Democrats.” He was also active in the 30th Street Block Association, Chelsea Waterside Park Association, and the Midtown South Precinct Community Council.

“Frank’s gentle manner and devotion to helping others will long be remembered by those he touched,” the notice said. “He was forty years old and died after a long illness of complications, due to AIDS.”

This is not my first pandemic. It amazes me that so many people have a casual attitude towards it. Every life lost is precious. And that should not be tolerated.

Community: Snapshots of a Political Inflection Point

In my book, Community: Journal of Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen (NYC) these two people wanted the same job: Mayor. They courted District Leader Jim McManus for his support.

Rudolph Giuliani and Jim McManus, circa September 1995. Photo by Mary Clark.
Jim McManus and Ruth Messinger, September 1994. Photo by Mary Clark.

The candidates were Ruth Messinger, Democrat, and Rudolph Giuliani, Republican.

It was my job to keep tabs on what was happening in the community, and to take initiatives when needed or possible. When Giuliani became mayor, he began making changes that would affect the Hell’s Kitchen/Clinton community, often not in the best way. If McManus supported him openly, by endorsing him in 1997, the doors would open to better negotiations, better outcomes. He had to decide whether he thought Messinger or Giuliani would win.

Meanwhile, two of the old guard in the McManus Club decided to get what they could. How far would they go?

Smorgasbord Cafe and Bookstore – New Author on the Shelves – #Memoir #NYPolitics – Community: Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen by Mary Clark

Thanks to the wonderful Sally Cronin, whose magical book, Tales from the Garden, I’m reading now. Her website is a pleasure to visit. I hope you’ll give it a look.

Community: Reblog

Thanks to Chris Graham at the Story Reading Ape for publicizing the #newrelease of my latest book, Community: Journal of Power Politics and Democracy in Hell’s Kitchen. The Story Reading Ape is well-known to writers for writing tips and profiles of authors. Chris has also designed book covers. A very versatile ape!

Here is his page for Community

And I’ll add in a couple of photos of the Hell’s Kitchen neighborhood

Mathews-Palmer Playground West 45th – 46th Street between Ninth and Tenth Avenues
Me at the start of the Ninth Avenue International Food Festival circa 1997 (blue shirt, black pants)