Book Review on Community (long) | <– Date –> <– Thread –> |
From: Frank Mancino (fmancino![]() |
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Date: Mon, 25 Sep 1995 16:49:34 -0500 |
--=====================_812076473==_ Here is a text-file reprint of a recent review by Jonathan Yardley in the Washington Post, which is about community, values, and neighborhoods. The book would seem to have some relevance to some of the issues on coho-l, though it may be dealing with the same terms, like "community", at a higher or more abstract level. Still, if cohousing is "building a better society, one neighborhood at a time," it is sometimes useful to listen to other voices on where their neighborhoods went, and why. --=====================_812076473==_ THE LOST CITY Discovering the Forgotten Virtues of Community in the Chicago of the 1950s By Alan Ehrenhalt BasicBooks. 310 pp. $24 IN THIS provocative study of three Chicago neighborhoods during the 1950s, Alan Ehrenhalt brings together two themes that of late have drawn strong followings among the intelligentsia. One is rather clumsily called "communitarianism"; it seeks to organize a political movement aimed at restoring what Ehrenhalt calls "the benefits of old-fashioned community life at the neighborhood level." The other is nostalgia for the 1950s, which many people believe was the last time of American innocence before the plunge into the cesspool of crime and immorality we are now commonly believed to occupy. Ehrenhalt is an admirer of the 1950s who tries hard, for the most part with success, to avoid the trap of nostalgia, of "a cleansing and oversimplifying of the past that makes it look beguilingly rosy and innocent from the vantage point of a few decades of history." He knows that the 1950s were the era of Joe McCarthy as well as Marilyn Monroe, of fallout shelters as well as "Rock Around the Clock," of Sputnik as well as "Father Knows Best." He also understands that if the decade was fairly tranquil and comfortable for the newly prosperous white majority, it was a hard time for those of the wrong color, or religion, or politics. All this said and done, though, Ehrenhalt believes that in moving away from the social and cultural conventions that prevailed during that distant decade, we have lost more than we have gained. This is not exactly a new point. The literature of "lost America" grows steadily; it was only a few weeks ago that this space was filled with a review of David Gelernter's 1939: The Lost World of the Fair, in which America today is compared unfavorably with New York City of the 1930s. At a time when the nation is lurching from one crisis of self-definition to another, it is hardly surprising that we should look to the past both for an anchor and for an example. Interestingly, both Ehrenhalt and Gelernter focus on the decline of authority as one broad, important area in which we have lost something of value. Gelernter wrote of Franklin Roosevelt and Fiorello LaGuardia as figures who exercised authority that was both welcomed and unchallenged by those whom they governed. Ehrenhalt focuses somewhat more narrowly, but no less pointedly, on local authority figures such as Catholic priests in an old Chicago ethnic neighborhood, ministers and ward heelers in an impoverished black area, Junior Chamber of Commerce members in a new suburb on the city's green fringe. In citing these figures Ehrenhalt is not being authoritarian in the received, i.e. pejorative, sense of the word, but arguing that people both individually and collectively yearn for some measure of order in their lives. Though we live in a time when choice is unlimited, there remains within us a longing for rules, for habits, for steady social relationships in which the community acts as a buttress for the common good and to perpetuate common beliefs. Ehrenhalt writes: "We don't want the 1950s back. What we want is to edit them. We want to keep the safe streets, the friendly grocers, and the milk and cookies, while blotting out the political bosses, the tyrannical headmasters, the inflexible rules, and the lectures on 100 percent Americanism and the sinfulness of dissent. But there is no easy way to have an orderly world without somebody making the rules by which order is preserved. Every dream we have about re-creating community in the absence of authority will turn out to be a pipe dream in the end." That Ehrenhalt had no difficulty locating authority in all three of the 1950s Chicago neighborhoods he describes herein is evidence enough of its pervasiveness at all levels of American society at that time. The country consisted of individuals who lived within communities rather than, as it does now, of individuals who exist within themselves. In order to be communities, these aggregations had to have rules=97some tacit, some written=97that were reasonably acceptable to all, and they had to have people to enforce those rules. The enforcers weren't always pleasant and their methods weren't always nice. We may like to remember friendly ministers and avuncular teachers, but there were plenty of authority figures who routinely abused the powers entrusted them. At a Catholic school in Chicago called St. Nicholas of Tolentine, "there were nuns . . . who treated discipline not only as a means of enforcing order but as an opportunity for their own self-expression." Joseph Lynch, associate pastor at the parish, was "a disciplinarian with a short fuse and a streak of meanness," and those who came under his influence didn't soon forget him: "WE OF the baby-boom generation will be having nightmares about Father Lynch=97or some secular equivalent=97for a lifetime. These men did a great deal to shape the attitude toward authority that blossomed in the 1960s and has defined individualism as a non-negotiable right ever since then. The Father Lynches of the world gave authority a reputation it has yet to lose until all the postwar children who endured them begin to pass from the scene. The consequence is that an entire generation of Americans has found it difficult to think sensibly about the legitimate role that authority must play in any decent and civil society." Ehrenhalt believes that a properly functioning society is one in which a balance is struck "a bargain," he calls it between our desire for "familiar and stable" communities and the necessity, in order to maintain them, of "a whole network of restrictions on our ability to do whatever we liked." In this bargain, he correctly points out, "the costs could not be repudiated without affecting the benefits"; we now have unlimited freedom of choice, but we inhabit a culture dominated not by order and civility but by "egotism, incivility, disloyalty." It's easier to describe such conditions than to prescribe remedies for them, but Ehrenhalt closes with an insightful observation. During the 1920s, he points out, many social critics worried that "debilitating change and collapsing rules" were dragging the country to perdition, but the country responded to Depression and war with stability and order. The 1960s and their legacy similarly may not last forever, though these days it's often hard to imagine otherwise. =1A --=====================_812076473==_--
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