Naked City [antikvár]

Persons looking on Weegee's incredible photographs for the first time find it herd to believe that one ordinary earth-bound humon being could have been present at so many climactic moments in the city's life. The simplest explanation of the phenomenon is that true love endows a man with superhuman qualities, and Weegee is truly in love with New York. Not the New York that you and I know, but the New York that he has known, first as a poor immigrant boy and later as a free-lance newspaper photographer specializing in crime and violence. Loving the city, Weegee has been able to live with her in the utmost intimacy. When he goes to bed in his room across the street from police headquarters, the city murmurs to him from the police-approved shortwave radio beside his bed. Even in slumber he is responsive to her. He will sleep through fifteen unpromising police calls and leap out of bed at the promising sixteenth. In sickness and in health he will take his camera and ride off in search of new evidence that his city, even in her most drunken and disorderly and pathetic moments, is beautiful. Of course Weegee, being an Artist, ho? his own conception of what constitutes beauty, and in some cases it is hard for us to share his conception; but insofar as we con shore it, we can share his love for the city. When he cruises in his 1938 Chevrolet, his love is beside him, talking to him from another shortwave radio: and as he