Like
my fellow ladies, I’m quite partial to street fests, fried food, and a
good book. A few weekends ago, I was finally able to go to Printers Row Lit Fest, an annual celebration of all things books, held in the former heart of the Chicago’s printing business.
I
stopped by the fest on both days of the weekend and saw a few different
speakers, bought a couple paperbacks, and searched in vain for the food
trucks listed on the map. Printers Row is a really cool neighborhood in
general, and it was energizing and fun to see blocks filled with tables
of books. One speaker session in particular stuck with me most,
though.
On
Saturday morning, I arrived with my parents to hear three stalwarts of
Chicago journalism: Rick Kogan, of the Tribune and most recently, a
six-month stint on WBEZ; Michael Hainey, an editor at GQ and Chicago
native; and Neil Steinberg, a columnist for the Sun Times.
I
had recently finished Hainey’s first book “After Visiting Friends”, a
sort-of mystery about his father’s life and early death, but even more a
little bit of a thoughtful ode to Chicago and a “golden age” of
journalism in the city. The book moved me unexpectedly, and I’ll admit
to having a little bit of celebrity moment when I first saw Hainey at
the front of the room. The conversation kept me at rapt attention, even
in a windowless library basement room, and I got to thinking about
books and cities, how people express love for a place.
Neil
Steinberg’s most recent book “You Were Never in Chicago” was one of the
three torn apart by the New York Times's Rachel Shteir in a recent, blistering critique of the authors’ Chicago-centered books and the city they write about. There’s enough about the ensuing kerfuffle
floating about the interwebs that I don’t feel a need to discuss it
here, but Steinberg’s defense stuck with me. All cities have their
problems, and Chicago definitely has its fair share. However, he argued
the obvious point (to me, at least) that if you live somewhere, and
hate it so vehemently, that’s on you. And to sweep an entire city under
one rug with a bunch of overgeneralizations is unfair, and
counterproductive to any interesting dialogue about the nature and state
of the places we live.
I
also found myself oddly defensive of Chicago, as a somewhat recent
resident of the city itself (I won’t anger anyone by claiming that my
northwest suburban childhood counts as “living in Chicago”). Since
coming back to the city, I’ve sought out articles and books, both
fiction and nonfiction, about Chicago and have found a lot of thoughtful
writing that captures both the city’s nuances and expresses love for
this place. Reading about others experiences, and hearing their
critiques, have helped me feel more at home here.
The
Printers Row discussion sparked a fun dialogue with my parents at
lunch afterward, and later that night I brought up it up at a BBQ with a
bunch of other young Chicagoans, both recent transplants and natives.
We all agreed to individual relationship to place is fascinating, and
that books where the location is essentially a main character are a
great way to express your love for a city, despite its faults, and
consider the character of a place itself and how it impacts the lives of
its residents.
Overall,
the weekend left me with love for my new (ish) city, Printers Row Lit
Fest, and the books that celebrate the places that are important to us.
What are some of your favorite books about the cities where you live?
