Lovecraftian New York

I'm in the land of H.P. Lovecraft which is very exciting. Back in the days of Dymocks I had planned to do a tour of New England with a friend and visit all the significant sites that features in his short horror stories. It was to be our terror trip across America.

Now I am here I have started to read Lovecraft's short stories again and was struck by his very accurate description of New York City that echoes what I have felt about it ever since I arrived here. One must remember that Lovecraft wrote this story in the 1930s.

....garish daylight shewed only squalor and alienage and the noxious elephantiasis of climbing, spreading stone where the moon had hinted of loveliness and elder magic......and I saw at last a fearful truth which no one had ever dared to breathe before - the unwhisperable secret of secrets - the fact that this city of stone and stridor is not a sentient perpetuation of Old New York as London is of Old London and Paris of Old Paris, but that it is in fact quite dead, its sprawling body imperfectly embalmed and infested with queer animate things which have nothing to do with it as it was in life.
He by H.P. Lovecraft.

It is very true. Take away the people and the city is dead. There is no history or character that gives the city its own life the same way that London or Paris has. America seems obsessed with destroying the old and making as much money out of every inch they can. Rather sad really.

I visited the location mentioned in the story He. At the end of the novel the protagonist is found, broken and bleeding on Perry Street, having emerged from a black courtyard. I walked the breadth of Perry street and whilst it is a nice tree lined street in the West Village, it does not give one much of a feel for the Perry street of the 1930s apart from a small section of cobbled road and the occasional flourish that the residents have added to their entrances.

Slaughtering Lambs

To continue on the theme of horror movies, I would like to mention a little pub (or bar as they like to call them here) a stones throw from the Christopher street Path station on the corner of Barrow and Jones. Its THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB. This bar was introduced to us last week by Scott who then took us to the Jekyll and Hyde themed restaurant (it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience - the animatronic shows and actorial distractions must be witnessed for their sheer B grade tackiness). We were so impressed by the pub that we returned on Saturday for a bottle of Witchwood Breweries Scarecrow (a tasty Golden Pale Ale) that unfortunately turned out to be much more expensive than we expected by enjoyed nonetheless.

The denizens of THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB are the usual mob you would find in any American bar, but it is the cramped little pub that makes the experience the most enjoyable. When I say cramped, I am exaggerating - there is not that much space. If the door to the gents bathroom is left slightly ajar the door to the ladies becomes wedged and vice versa. Its quite a delightful little bar to spend an afternoon drinking and watching people walking up and down one of West Villages side streets. It is completely wooden paneled, dark, low ceilinged, and every nook and cranny is festooned with little collectible memorabilia such as bobsleds, cricket bats, old bottles and the like.

Cricket bats? May well you be shocked! As Scott pointed out, this may be the only bar in New York that contains a cricket bat. But why?

For those horror buffs out there. They will have twigged at the name of the bar. Yes, that's right, THE SLAUGHTERED LAMB is the name of the lone pub standing on the misty Yorkshire moors in the movie AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON. To that effect, movie posters and scene photographs can be found in the pub in the most unlikely places. The wonderful part about the pub in the movie for those with a good memory, is that Rik Mayall plays a drunken and surly Yorkshireman who warns the hero about the evil menace that prowls the moors at night.

Moving on from the bar we get to American beer. Unfortunately, like American coffee, it is quite terrible. About the best you will find is Millers draft, everything else leaves much to be desired on the palate. This would explain why everyone drinks Coronas here, even though it is a second rate Mexican beer. We managed to find a fairly decent pale ale on tap called Blue Moon, but in keeping with American's inability to make a decent drop its brewed in Canada.
What I wouldn't give for a nice pint of Cascade Pale.

Parades

I started the Fashion Design course last week, and although it was merely an introduction class, it looks like it will be very enjoyable. On saturday we went into the city to buy some art supplies that I needed (namely a sketch board, newprint and charcoals). It actually felt good to walk around carrying a portfolio bag and have a legitimate reason to. I should also be able to spend plenty of time working on this course as the US department responsible for processing my work permit is only up to applications submitted at the start of June (I submitted mine at the start of August).

On saturday we caught the Deitch Projects Art Parade, only largely compelling because Fischerspooner was playing on a float. As you can see from the photos, there was some very interesting, if not occasionally bizarre attractions. They ranged from the well thought out and spectacular displays (such as Fischerspooner's float that spewed glitter out into the crowds from air cannons, a bunch of toilet bicycles, and Brooklyn high school marching band) to the disturbingly lame (unfortunately I have no examples, they have been erased from my mind).