Nonfiction | July 22, 2013
My New York: A Romance in Eight Parts
Peter Selgin
Here was the New York City I once fell hard for, the city of my childhood and young dreams. And though the menu belonged to a vanished time, still, it was real—as the Hotel Paris had been real, as the passenger ships lined up in their berths had been real. As my innocence, my ambitions, my disappointments, my failures and a host of betrayals—mine, my father’s, the city’s—all had been real.
This essay is not currently available online.
If you are a student, faculty member, or staff member at an institution whose library subscribes to Project Muse, you can read this piece and the full archives of the Missouri Review for free. Check this list to see if your library is a Project Muse subscriber.
Want to read more?
Subscribe TodaySEE THE ISSUE
SUGGESTED CONTENT
Editors' Prize Winner
Jun 02 2021
Opera House
Opera House By Robert Stothart Everything seemed married to everything else. —Gustave Baumann, printmaker, Santa Fe Overture A mere 7,918 miles in diameter, Earth, our home together, travels a minuscule… read more
Nonfiction
Jun 02 2021
The Valley of Boys
The Valley of Boys Sage Marshall Boys, boys, a valley of boys. We lived in a small town. The snow rose in silent blankets outside the classroom window. It came… read more
Nonfiction
Mar 02 2021
A Series of Tubes
Although widely ridiculed for the statement, the late Alaska Senator Ted Stevens was right when he said, “The Internet is a series of tubes.” He was just off by a… read more