Abigail James

Don’t say he didn’t warn ya! Mr. Moss explicitly warns you at the very beginning of his eulogy to New York City: if you are prone to nostalgia or insist on the “bright side” of a tale of loss, or are otherwise unable to stomach the gory details of the slow and painful death and at other times maniacal, merciless and bloody bludgeoning of an unbelievably alive creature - one that deeply feels every stab and blow to its body, mind and soul - yet fights to stay alive amidst these murderous forces, with every ounce of its unmatched and hard-earned grit and heart, then this book ain’t for you. There is no “on the other hand” following the losses - specific and general - laid bare and shamelessly mourned in this book. Despite this warning, I proceeded and felt myself begging for just one small “light at the end of the tunnel” or the moment when Dr. moss finally enters the waiting room where the anxious family members and lovers and friends of the all-but-dead New York have prayed and paced on pins and needles throughout the chapters of this book and says: “there’s still a chance” or “she made it through the night” “…. Which is a good sign”. But….. that did not happen. Mr. Moss is here to tell the truth.. the truth of a death… of a murder. And Mr. Moss realizes that the truth can only be told if the FULL truth is told… and so he does. Although there are no bright sides and lights at the end of the tunnel, that’s not what Mr. Moss felt called to give us. And, for what it’s worth, in relaying the brutal death of our beloved New York in such detail, by default, Mr. Moss had to tell us, in equal detail, what was once so very alive. If you could press “rewind” on this book, you would see the life of New York, in equally vivid detail, from death to birth and everything in between. In sum, while it was painful to read this book, it was necessary for me; to face the reality that is shoved in my face every day but I try so hard to avert my eyes and avoid. Rip the Bandaid off and begin to love New York again… this time in the endless tales, and memories and odes to New York and her many parts, at a time when she was very, very much alive.