Djuna Barnes was an artist, illustrator, journalist, playwright, and poet associated with the early 20th-century Greenwich Village bohemians and the Modernist literary movement.
Barnes played an important part in the development of 20th century English language modernist writing and was one of the key figures in 1920s and 30s bohemian Paris after filling a similar role in the Greenwich Village of the teens. Her novel Nightwood became a cult work of modern fiction, helped by an introduction by T. S. Eliot. It stands out today for its portrayal of lesbian themes and its distinctive writing style. Since Barnes's death, interest in her work has grown and many of her books are back in print.
Whilst Djuna Barnes’ New York captures such a great deal, I admit that I was rather disappointed. The book is incredibly valuable, in that it collects together all of Barnes' period pieces of journalism, published between 1913 and 1919. However, a lot of the subjects she focuses on were just a little too niche for my own interests. Barnes is certainly an entertaining columnist, and there are some amusing moments here, but this was not carried throughout the collection.
Part of the appeal of Barnes’ fiction for me is the magic; the way in which she makes the strange and otherworldly such an integral part of her stories. New York, of course, is realist, and Barnes’ writing style did feel markedly different here, when compared to the likes of Nightwood and her short stories.
New York is invaluable as a research document regarding the population of New York City during the 1910s, but as a general piece of reading material, I must admit that many of these essays simply did not capture my interest.
Not fully finished with this collection of articles & essays (done between 1913 and 1928), but I have really enjoyed the better part of what I've read so far. An article documenting a meeting of the pre-Socialist "Wobblies," is really good as is an article about the increasing attendance of women at prize-fighting matches. A series of interviews with senior citizen laborers around New York and a number of examinations of dance halls and their attendant taboos, etiquettes and dance crazes.
#31 “Ah”, he cried, “life has become so pure that it is no longer a pleasure to go slumming. What's the use of thrusting your hands into mud only to have them emerge cleaner and brighter, like a kitchen knife.
#33 “They have a great contempt for food,” he would go on to say, “and a great reverence for crockery,” and he would laugh.
A great collection of prose essays that are remarkable for their lack of meditation. Barnes gathers stories from all walks of life and varied points from NYC's post WWI landscape and brings them together in a natural style that always keeps the story in the center stage.