Author Daniel S. Levy really took on too much in this book, though it's not entirely his fault. His premise -- that the aftereffects of the Great Fire of December 1835 transformed New York City into the most important metropolitan area in the US -- demanded that he look at the ensuing changes in every aspect of NY life: water, fire, sewage, real estate policy, housing, demographics and immigration, parks and recreation, politics, arts, the news media, commerce, trade, slavery, gambling, corruption, the temperance movement .... While he could have cut his time frame shorter, the end of the Civil War made for an obvious termination. (Arguably, in fact, the book should have continued into the 1880s, which would have encompassed such turning points as the merger of Brooklyn and Queens into NYC, the opening of the Brooklyn Bridge, and the construction of the Statue of Liberty.)
The positive result is that this book gives the reader a rich insight into an important era in New York history, providing both context and detail. The scope of the author's research is mind-boggling.
To give a couple of examples of the complexity of the book's narrative, thesis, and research:
One immediate result of the devastating 1835 fire was that city officials realized they needed a professional fire department. That led to a network of local firehouses, each of which became a close-knit community of full-time firefighters. Those communities, in turn, were an easy target for ambitious (and sometimes corrupt) politicians to organize, ward by ward, into foot soldiers. Boss Tweed began his rise as an eager firehouse hanger-on.
A different sort of example was the conflict between two social goods: Virtually everyone agreed that NYC needed a large, public open space, and the biggest plot of available, relatively low-cost, mostly undeveloped land was the approximately 850 acres in the center of Manhattan now known as Central Park. However, it wasn't totally undeveloped. There was a uniquely thriving, middle-class Black neighborhood of about 225 residents, called Seneca Village, on the western edge. Could the neighborhood have been preserved, with the park curving around it? Today, we see that possibility, but back then, Seneca Village was torn down.
The book's achievements of scope and detail, however, are also its flaws. It ends up with an unwieldy combination of speed and slowness: It rushes through the Great Fire, John Jacob Astor's real estate savvy, NY's pro-South sympathies, the creation of Columbia College, Walt Whitman, Central Park, Lincoln's Cooper Union speech, Boss Tweed, and dozens of other topics at a dizzying pace. P.T. Barnum comes and goes. So does John Brown. (What does he have to do with NYC? Not too much) At the same time, the book also plods along -- a flaw common to nonfiction books -- dragged down by far too many mind-numbing, unnecessary details. How many examples do we really need of famous New Yorkers who enlisted in the Civil War or the sites where wealthy residents built their post-fire homes?
I wonder if the author would have done better to break this into several books, perhaps one for each decade? Or focused on the first post-fire decade and summarized the next two decades in an epilogue?
Still, I have to emphasize: Kudos to Mr. Levy for his incredible research.