Reading Place: Secrets, Poetry, Solace

By HANNAH GERSEN

 

Slate has a new travel blog celebrating strange and beautiful places around the world. Recent entries include a tunnel of flowers, a theater that has been remodeled into a bookstore, and a movie theater that floats in a lagoon.

Speaking of mysterious places, Stonehenge is seeking a general manager. Details at The Atlantic.

In New York City, where I live, I’ve always been fascinated by the High Bridge, a pedestrian bridge that links the Bronx and Manhattan. It’s been closed for decades but will open up next summer. The New York Times profiles the High Bridge neighborhood, in light of these upcoming changes.

bridge over river

For a peek inside the High Bridge before it opens, check out Channel 13’s web video series, “The City Concealed.”

In Archeology Magazine, a secret side of London’s history is revealed when a 19th-century burial ground is excavated.

And everyone’s secret histories are revealed ona 47-hour train ride across the United States. Writing for The New York Times Magazine, Nathaniel Rich notes that the sheer length of a cross-country train ride makes it impossible to remain silent: “While it might be socially uncomfortable to speak with a stranger during a short trip, the scale seems to tip for trips longer than six hours, at which point it becomes significantly more awkward not to speak to your fellow passengers.”

A poem, “Train,” at Orion.

Another poem, “Driving down from Georgia and the Doors Are Painted Blue,” at Witness.

Finally, at n+1, Benjamin Kunkel writes about following the U.S. news while living abroad in Buenos Aires. Wordworth’s Prelude offers some solace.

 

Hannah Gersen is the Dispatches Editor of The Common.

Photo by Barry Yanowitz from Flickr Creative Commons

Reading Place: Secrets, Poetry, Solace

Related Posts

Image of men smoking in the park

Fragments of Shame and Pride

RAED RAFEI
In the living room of my parents’ home in Tripoli, Lebanon, an elaborate family tree is displayed in a golden frame. It is a constant reminder of a fatalistic vision of life’s ultimate purpose: reproduction. Males are depicted as branches; females as leaves.

Light on building

All In and Out of Time

ALLYN GAESTEL
A love of mine took my photograph one Sunday afternoon in a gallery in Dakar: My face is buried in ripples of tissuey white paper. I am leaning forward, and though you can’t see them, I am blinking my eyes. I am feeling the softness of this artwork we are not meant to touch.