There’s much to love in Mark Krotov’s spirited response to my essay on Sunnyside Yard, especially the compliments, which I endorse emphatically. It is a pleasure to be read by a mind this lively; Krotov brings an amphibian agility and a father’s tenderness to his assessment of the shore of prehistoric Lake Sunnyside, which probably explains why he’s able to appreciate the beauty and mystery in Sunnyside Gardens where I see only suffocation, twee greenery, and low-ceilinged provincialism. Perhaps we need to meet in person and duke this out over a crappy coffee at Parrot, a steak at La Fusta in nearby Jackson Heights, or even—as Krotov gamely suggests—a plate of okra. (I’m happy to split the bill.)
Does it matter—to the response to the essay, to New York City, to my need to string this reply out into something more than just “thanks for the nice words about my piece, Mark”—that one of the main examples Krotov presents to make his case against the redevelopment of Sunnyside Yard now proves the opposite point? Things may of course change again by the time these letters m…