Granta, the magazine of new writing, has devoted its latest issue to Chicago. Only a few times since the magazine reemerged in 1979 has it chosen a location to be its muse, the list so far includes Russia, Africa, and India. Now, Granta has chosen not a continent (really? you whittled down all of Africa into one issue?) nor a country, but a city, our city, the city on the lake, as its inspiration. The collection includes poetry, excerpts from novels, essays, photography and short stories. The connection each contribution has to Chicago varies. Some are simply authored by an individual who was born here or chose to live here at some point in their life. Others are about, or take place in Chicago, like Alex Kotlowitz's short story Khalid. Contributions like these are brimming with Chicago-specific details, like street and store names. These elements help to conjure up images of the city's neighborhoods and busy intersections. As the reader, you begin to share Chicago with the characters, which gives you the feeling that you might pass them by on the street one day, if you haven't already.
Granta has promoted its all-Chicago issue around the city this September with readings by contributors at local libraries, bookshops and other venues. An event at Rainbow Club in Wicker Park caught my eye, and not only because it was free and near my house. In order to celebrate one of the literary gems in the issue, a never-before-published short story by famed Chicago author Nelson Algren, his friend and professional photographer Art Shay narrated a slide show of photos he took with Algren over the course of their friendship.
Nelson Algren's best known novels are The Man With the Golden Arm (a National Book Award winner), Chicago, City on the Make, and A Walk on the Wild Side but Algren is just as famous for his bohemian lifestyle and the social circles he traveled in. Although Algren passed away in 1981, Shay managed to bring him back to life through firsthand accounts of their time spent together roaming Chicago streets encountering addicts, hookers, bums, cops, hustlers, and other street characters.
The best tales were the ones that shed light on recognizable photos, like the anecdote that came along with this famous shot of Simone de Beauvoir's backside. First, Shay showed us Algren's tiny, grubby apartment, pictures of Algren shaving over the kitchen sink, amidst dirty frying pans and unwashed dishes. These shots made it easier to believe the following piece of information, that the flat had no proper bathroom. Ultimately this posed a problem for Algren's lady friends, and Shay was assigned the task of finding a bathtub for Beauvoir to use when she was in town visiting Algren. On one of these occasions, Shay was privy to Simone's privates and shot this picture.
What's odd, is that the event made me wistful and nostalgic for something I wasn't a part of then: 1940's Chicago and for something I'm not a part of now: a solid literary community. I wondered who is this century's Nelson Algren? Am I as connected to my city and its people as Algren was? Who will we be celebrating 50 years from now as a great Chicago author? And how do I meet that person and become their friend? I suppose I could take a hint from Art Shay, just knock on the door and introduce myself, like he did with Algren. And the rest, as they would say, would be history.
For additional infrmation on Granta, the magazine for new writing, visit granta.com.

1 comments:
how funny to be nostalgic for impossible things. i'm brimming with that and all sorts of chicago specific details at the moment.
but to think that Simone de Beauvoir walked the same streets we walk is so special a thing.
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