The Lost City: The Forgotten Virtues Of Community In America

by Alan Ehrenhalt

Millions of Americans yearn for a lost sense of community, for the days when neighbors looked out for one another and families were stable and secure. The 1950s are regarded as the golden age of community, but 1960s rebellion and 1980s nostalgia have blurred our view of what life was really like back then.In The Lost City, Alan Ehrenhalt cuts through the fog, immersing us in the sights, sounds, and rhythms of life in America forty years ago. He takes us down the streets and into the homes, schools, and shops of three neighborhoods in one quintessentially American Chicago. In St. Nicholas of Tolentine parish on the Southwest Side, we see how the local Catholic church served as the moral and social center of community life. In Bronzeville, the heart of the black South Side, we meet the civic leaders who offered hope and role models to people hemmed in by poverty and segregation. And in Elmhurst, a commuter suburb bursting with new subdivisions, we witness the culture of middle-class conformity and the ways in which children and adults bent to the rules of the majority culture.Through evocative stories and incisive analysis, Ehrenhalt shows that the glue holding each neighborhood together was an unstated social compact under which people accepted limits in their lives and deferred to authority figures to enforce those limits—a compact destroyed by the baby boomers' rejection of authority in the 1960s. Since that time, an entire generation has come to believe that personal choice is the most important of life's values. But Ehrenhalt argues that if we truly wish to balance the demands of modern life with a feeling of community, we have a great deal to learn from the ”limited” life of the 1950s. The Lost City reveals the price we must pay to restore community in our lives today and the values that will make such a restoration possible.

Genres: Nonfiction, History, Sociology, Politics, American History, Cultural, Urbanism

320 pages, Paperback

First published September 1, 1995

About the author

ALAN EHRENHALT was the executive editor of Governing magazine from 1990 to 2009. He is the author of The United States of Ambition, The Lost City, and Democracy in the Mirror. In 2000, he was the recipient of the American Political Science Association's Carey McWilliams Award for distinguished contributions to the field of political science by a journalist. He is currently Information Director at the Pew Center on the States in Washington, D.C.

Reviews

[Jane · Rating 4 out of 5]

Although I don't agree with the entirety of the author's thesis, involving the importance of retaining an external authority in society and a personal sense of sin, I found this fascinating reading. With his examination of 3 Chicago communities in the 1950's the historical details resonated with me. His discussion of Bronzeville added to what I learned from Timuel Black's oral histories, published after this book (although Ehrenhalt quotes Black several times). Black and Ehrenhalt seem to agree, for somewhat different reasons, that more was lost than gained in the demise of Bronzeville, despite the subsequent economic advancement of many of its former inhabitants. Another community focused on is the suburb of Elmhurst, also of personal interest to me because I spent a lot of happy times there visiting my cousins after they moved away from us and the south side. I feel confident that part of the reason the author chose that particular community was the existence of the Elmhurst Historical Society, where my aunt devoted many hours of labor to preserve the town's history. Although the third locus of his study, a white ethnic, Catholic neighborhood on the southwest side, was foreign territory to me as a child, it too was an intriguing look at a place and era of close-knit community that may be gone forever.

[John Matthews · Rating 4 out of 5]

The primary thesis of this book seems to be that Americans had a sense of well being in the 1950s and the Baby Boomers are mostly to blame for its absence today.

The belief that the ’50s were an fairly idyllic time is not simply nostalgia by those adults who lived through it. Despite the nuclear and communist threats, corrupt political bosses, lack of privacy, racial injustice, constrictive roles for women and the dictatorial rules to be found just about everywhere one went, most people felt pretty good about life. The optimism that exudes from the media of the day is tangible.

So why was everyone so damn happy? Ehrenhalt believes it was the social codes that were enforced by church, family, school and society at large that made for a more content populace. Authority, in other words, makes [most] people happy.

Say what?

The concept may sound alien to us in 2015 (or in 1995 when this book was published) but it might not be so far-fetched. In one of his stronger arguments, Ehrenhalt says that while there is always a small group of bright and articulate libertarian-minded people who wish to throw off all the chains that bind, most people are not like this. Most people prefer order and a rulebook and get nuts when they don’t have one or when others don’t follow it. The libertarian fallacy is the belief that everyone deep down wants to be like them.

In what sometimes sounds like a cranky old man telling kids to get off his lawn, Ehrenhalt lays the majority of the blame for this lost community at the feet of the Baby Boomers. It was their teeming masses, he says, that were crammed into too-small suburban houses and too-crowded schools. Was it constrictive architecture that eventually drove the Boomers to clamor so loudly about their need for “personal space” and to whip off anything that looked remotely like a shackle?

In the 1950s, privacy, choice and space were in short supply. By the time the Boomers matured, if they knew nothing else, this generation knew they wanted lots of all of these things. In their drive for abolition of rules of almost any sort, the relative calm that was known in 1950s America was seemingly swept away like a rushing river had burst through Mayberry. In its wake, today we have 25 types of toothpaste and over 300 TV channels to choose between. While this might make the libertarians among us rejoice, what about the majority of people who are intimidated by these things and prefer things to be less overwhelming?

As Ehrenhalt says: “It is not the place of the historian or social critic to mock the comforts of ordinary people.”

If the anchors that made for a more stable society will one day be restored, Ehrenhalt believes it will have to come from a future generation who are not so averse to limitations, who welcome a bit more authoritative control, who will gladly exchange a little less freedom for a far less-chaotic world.

Overall, the different areas of Chicago (Parish, Ghetto and Suburb) that are the focus of the book, are well-evoked. The book is a bit less effective at selling the arguments presented as there is little hard evidence given to support them. Nonetheless, Lost City was a thought-provoking read and is worth picking up if you ever wondered how we went from sock hops to Twitter feeds.

[Britt Skrabanek · Rating 4 out of 5]

Though intended purely for book research, I was very into this.

With 1950's Chicago as my primary setting, this book intricately picked apart three distinct neighborhoods, immersing the reader in a life that once was.

The provocative side was what perked my interest.

Originally written during the mid-1990s, The Lost City argues that a simpler time for the community has been long forgotten, replaced by the hustle and bustle of modern times.

Oh, how much things have escalated since this was written! I wonder what Ehrenhalt would have to say about our social media world.

Anywho.

The nostalgia for the 1950s has been discussed aplenty, though never in my opinion, with much to back it up. But, Ehrenhalt takes a different stance – not romanticizing like most, but bringing up a valid point.

Back then, life was simple because choices were limited. Today, as we all know very well, life is jam packed with choices, something that can be overwhelming and stifling simultaneously.

No, I'm not saying we should all wish for these times again. I'm obviously content not to be destined to a career as a housewife making pies and babies.

But, I connected with this deep concept of simplicity. A life of simplicity is obtainable when we lead with purpose, and avoid floundering in the infinite sea of choices.

Moral of the story...Choose wisely. Love your loved ones. Keep it simple.

Got it? Good.

Britt Skrabanek
http://brittskrabanek.com

[Russell Fox · Rating 5 out of 5]

Ehrenhalt's The Lost City is a tremendous--and, really, not all that dated--example of the best kind of communitarian criticism which the 1990s provided. While he plainly approached his subject matter--the ways in which the relative absence of economically, socially, or technologically enabled consumer or political choice in the 1950s resulted in forms of community which were filled with rich (or at least genuinely mixed) civic rewards--with much of the then-current communitarian or civic republican literature in mind, his detailed reportage and his framing of the crucial questions enabled him to produce something much greater than a mix urban sociology and political theory. Really, it is almost a work of moral or historical philosophy. For Ehrenhalt, the fact that mid-century America was one where Christian religious presumptions about sin and wickedness allowed for an articulation of boundaries between worthy and unworthy behaviors meant that the aforementioned economic, social, or technological constrictions could be understood as meaningful in ways that they couldn't be in our more choice-obsessed, individualistic era today. That meaning was, to be sure, often fought against, or even when it wasn't it was interpreted in various ways; struggles over education, privacy, progress, and authority, whether it had to do with public schooling or Catholic parishes or factory jobs or journalism are revealed as more complicated and rich than we might imagine otherwise thanks to Ehrenhalt's approach to telling these stories. The great impression I have after finishing The Lost City is that Ehrenhalt has very effectively described social dynamics which have been played out in important ways as American society and the places where Americans live have changed over the past half-century; it's going to take me a while to think through what all those ways are--which, really, is what the best sort of books can do.

[Laine · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting, informative, but hyper-local, if you aren't from the Chicagoland area it might be hard to appreciate or even fully understand the locations Ehrenhalt uses to illustrate his arguments. I do live in the area and even taught in Elmhurst, IL and found that portion of the book to be most fascinating. Some will find his desire to restore certain types of authority, and perhaps even a little bit of low-level corruption arguable at best, but his arguments for the return of social institutions and an over-arching need for HOPE in communities is undeniable. Great fodder for a sociology or urban studies course or unit!

[Peter · Rating 2 out of 5]

As much as Ehrenhalt claims to not be waxing nostalgic for an imagined 1950's idyll, that's exactly the case here. If you read Nelson Algren's works from that decade, you get little sense of the city being a warm, embracing place. Nor from Ben Hecht's earlier writings, either.

[Anne Harlan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very interesting to me because I lived near those three neighborhoods in the 1950's. His ideas about imposing control of choices in order to foster community are chilling to me. Maybe I wanted to hear more about adopting limitations on choices in order to commit to a community.

[Caleb · Rating 4 out of 5]

A loaner from my brother, this was a surprisingly good read. It appears as if it will be a dry sociological study of several Chicago communities, but instead it was a rich social and cultural history with interviews and great anecdotes about 3 Chicago communities in the 1950s. His basic premise is that although it is good that people have more choice and authoritarian and segregated communities should have ended, that we may not always be better off. He wrote this 15 years ago and it's interesting already to consider that people have gravitated back toward community, as cities have rebounded and New Urbanism has made even suburban areas more dense. It's always nice when a book exceeds your expectations and this one, a fairly quick read, surely exceeded mine.

[Diane · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book is a study of 1950s Chicago, focusing on aspects related to urban and suburban communities during this period. The author discusses the desire many Americans have for community in the contemporary period (he wrote in the mid-1990s), and the lessons they can learn from the past.

The book was well-written and interesting, and the author makes his points well. I liked the fact that he discusses the virtues of the past while not romanticizing it. However, I thought the writing style was a bit choppy, with sections that appeared to be like a memoir interspersed with the author's reflections. Somehow, it didn't flow well.

[Rebecca]

Hmm. I'm really interested in the specific history of Chicago here. But I don't think I can put up with the author's moral framework. He makes it all about this supposed trade-off between quality of life and individual freedom. I think that is a false dichotomy, and he doesn't offer any real evidence. "Things were better in the 50s because everyone conformed, too bad that was a rough deal for minorities" just does not do it for me.

[Bob Croft · Rating 4 out of 5]

A brilliant meditation on three Chicago neighborhoods in the 1950s: relationships, community, stability and the requisite conformity and acquiescence to authority. In demanding personal freedom and autonomy (beginning with the 60s) we have lost relationships and community. Can one have community without conformity?

[Du · Rating 2 out of 5]

I think I would have appreciated this book now, if it were less preachy . it had to much Rah, Raj, and not enough constructive conversation. I did like the layout and conversational tone of the chapters

[Stephen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Lost City: The Forgotten Virtues of Community takes a look at three communities in 1950s Chicago: a working-class Catholic neighborhood centered around St. Nicks’s; a then-new suburban development erupting out of a pre-existing neighborhood, with tensions between the old residents and all the new up-and-comers; and Bronzeville, a black neighborhood that was much-dismembered in the name of slum clearing. Much of society has been dismembered since the 1950s, chiefly in the name of self-interest — both on the part of individuals and of corporations, the ties between having been gleefully severed. This book was of great interest to me, in part because because it’s illustrating the richness that Robert Putnam’s Bowling Alone documented our losing, and in part because it’s encounter an author who is capable of writing about the 1950s as were, instead of how they’re idolized or demonized. I was most interested in the section on St. Nick’s, because it so thoroughly demonstrates how multi-layered and reinforcing society used to be: teachers, clergy, and members of the community worked together to keep an eye on and discipline children, so that the nuns of St. Nicks would discipline boys in-class if they’d misbehaved on the street, parents kept an eye on each other’s children as they played together in the lane between houses; and the cathedral’s monsignor patrolled the neighborhood, offering admonition and mentorship at the same time. The author points out that some of the tension between old and young came from the fact that men like Father Lynch had grown up in the Depression and fought in World War 2, and were now having to deal with insolence from the children of peace, ease, and prosperity. Not done chewing on this one yet — I think re-reading it in tandem with a re-read of Bowling Alone, joined by another book I have my eye on, would be an interesting experience.

[Sharon · Rating 5 out of 5]

Enjoyed the book. Was born in Chicago in '59 and moved to the suburbs in '66. The author often had my eyes rolling and I disagreed with him much of the time but a few things rung true. His argument is that after WWII many men took advantage of the GI bill and bought houses out in the suburbs. When this happened, "somehow" the Protestant work ethic was lost and folks valued all the choices the "new economy" offered. Pursuit of money became goal number one. Folks also (somehow) lost respect for authority (oh yea - it was the schools who promoted new liberal ways of parenting - that's why dad started being "friends" with his kids and felt he had to help out with the housework). Corporations shrunk away from their former pact with labor: to provide lifetime work at living wage that made it possible to raise a family and maintain a middle class lifestyle. Companies instead made shareholders their number one priority and replaced pensions with 401(k), and shifted work overseas to maximize shareholder value at the expense of their employees. In the end, the author gives up on the boomer generation - they'll never give up money and convenience - but maybe successive generations will. The book came out in the 1990s. Interesting to see how things turned out.

[Hagop T. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Simultaneously a book about three neighborhoods in Chicago, America in the 1950s, and the changes that occurred between 1957 and 1994. The thesis is that baby boomers began prioritizing choice too much, which fatally undermined authority and thus also community. Ehrenhalt openly admits that authority and conformity have downsides, but argues the price paid in individual autonomy is worth what we gain in stability and belonging.
Written in the 1990s, when these changes were still extremely fresh, which makes one reflect on how recently the world was so different.
The proposed solution is a little disappointing--it's simply "hopefully people start appreciating authority again."

[Gabriela Florencia · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book explores “the forgotten virtues of community in America” by discussing how the business mindset and larger corporations contributed to the decline and eventual loss (in most places) of a community that depends on its members for life’s necessities — meat, crops, etc. It’s well written but slightly depressing since there doesn’t seem to be a lot that can be done to remedy this.

[Jim · Rating 3 out of 5]

Author’s view: loss of authority + too much freedom of choice ruined community in America.

My view: cars + suburbs isolated people and ruined community in America. Then, laissez faire capitalism killed the American Dream.

[Edward Champion · Rating 4 out of 5]

A largely decent overview of how the 1950s mentality is nostalgic catnip, contradictory, and largely problematic. Some good stuff on Bronzeville, but perhaps too much on churches that takes away from its strong argumentative beginning. Read for research.

[James Clark]

Recommended by Liz Warnick at Trinity

[Charles · Rating 2 out of 5]

Mawkish, nostalgic moralizing.

[Douglas White]

Marvelous explanation of the phenomena of the 1950's. So much has been written critically of this decade. Ehrenhalt's purpose is to explain. Anyone who was raised during this time will smile many times and be simply thrilled with his ability to describe that life. Written about the 50's in Chicago.

[Mitchell · Rating 1 out of 5]

See Putnam review. This one was even worse.

[Dustin Tramel · Rating 5 out of 5]

A well written history of Chicago in the 1950's focusing on the way religion, money, and politics affected community.

[Brian Bundesen]

Very well written. Painted a good descriptive picture of the era.

[Rob Christopher · Rating 4 out of 5]

Absorbing.

[Hotspur · Rating 4 out of 5]

Nostalgia for order, sin, corruption, religion, loyalty--especially societal order. Interesting.