File:New York in fiction (1901) (14759668536).jpg

Identifier: newyorkinfiction01maur (find matches)
Title: New York in fiction
Year: 1901 (1900s)
Authors: Maurice, Arthur Bartlett, 1873-1946
Subjects: New York (N.Y.) -- In literature Novelists, American -- Homes and haunts New York (State) New York American fiction -- New York (State) New York History and criticism New York (N.Y.) -- Intellectual life
Publisher: New York, Dodd, Mead and company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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Barracks was the home of Dr.Whitfield and his daughter, Mrs. Eric- 63 NEW YORK IN FICTION 8011, Petey and Nora Burke, and thescene of The Linemans Weddmg, ar-ranged and reported by Mr. BarnyKelley of the DaUij Camera. Alhision isalso due to the stories of Love in theBig Barracks, probably the truest andstrongest tale of all in People We Pass,and The Mother Song, with its touch-ing pathos and quaint humour. Speak-ing of these stories, Mr. Ralph, in arecent letter to the present writer, says: In truth, like so many other things ofthe kind, my stories grew out of manypieces. First I adopted the name of thehouse because of the brutal and insultingname, The Big Flat, I saw on a double-decker tenement in lower Mott or BaxterStreet. Next I described the house withwhich I was familiar — or a type of tene-ment found elsewhere. Finally I choseForsythe Street, because I knew moretenement folks there than elsewhere,knew them better, and thought that themixture of races and worldly conditions 64
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big barracks TKNEMENT, FORSYTHE STREET. — JULTAN KALPIls IEOILE WE PASS. NEW YORK IN FICTION offered as mucli scope for stories as Icould get from any other quarter. In-numerable as were the kinds and pointsat which I touched these tenement peoplein my reporting experience, it was onlyhere that I was received in their clubs orsocieties, at their dances and on theirpicnics, on a basis of complete friendli-ness and frankness. In other words, /looked on in other tenement districts, butin this one / took part. And here I foundat least one lay employer of skilled labourliving in old-world fraternity with hisemployes and their families, as well as anunusual numl^er of well-to-do and morethan ordinarily respectable tavern andshop keepers. Its all a thing of thepast. A very few years ago I went backand tried to resurrect the old conditions,but they were buried and their spirit hadmoved uptown. The streets in this vicinity are also thestreets of Abraham Cahans stories ofGrhetto life, which w

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