[Review] The Corner: A Year in the Life of an Inner-City Neighborhood

Cover image of The Corner by David Simon, Ed Burns

A few years ago, I came late to The Wire, but caught up quickly. Usually I’m not one to buy the hype for television series, but I had to admit that The Wire was every bit as powerful, funny, and eye-opening as its fans claimed. It’s a show that you tell friends “you need to watch this” rather than “you’ll really enjoy it,” because they really do need to watch it.

The Wire is necessary because it actually provides a glimpse into the reality of ground zero in the War on Drugs – a topic that any person (at least in the U.S.) should be well-educated on, but probably is not. And if The Wire is required watching, the book that preceded and inspired it should be required reading. It should be required reading, starting in jr. high if not sooner.

The Corner: A Year in the Life of an Inner-City Neighborhood, by David Simon and Edward Burns, is as gripping and compelling as any work of fiction I’ve ever read. But it has the virtue of being a true story, and true journalism. Simon and Burns spent months getting to know the subjects in the book, then a solid year following their lives on the corner. Interviews, observation, and follow-ups after the year was over.

The Corner gives a first-hand look at what life is like for those living in the middle of one of the worst neighborhoods in the United States. It provides a look at what growing up in poverty is really like, and why it’s not just as simple as “pulling yourself up by your bootstraps.” It might surprise people to learn that the corner that Simon and Burns chose is near the birthplace of H.L. Mencken, the sage of Baltimore. The world of Mencken and the world of teen drug slingers and desperate dope fiends are separated only by a few decades and less than a mile.

And The Corner tells the tale from the beginning. Simon and Burns cover the scope of Baltimore’s downfall, from the early 1900s when the McCullough family first settled into Baltimore, through four generations of McCulloughs. From stand-up citizen and family man, to his fallen son who essentially abandons his son to pursue his addiction, to a teen who plays at slinging drugs and fathers his own son while still too young to drive. This is how fast our cities decay.

You’ll find some hope, but not much, at the end of the book. The book is set in 1994, and published in 1997. More than a decade and a half later, we know how the story goes for many of the people in the book.

As a work of journalism, I’m simply in awe. We need so much more of this. I can’t say that I “loved” the book in the same way I enjoy a good book of fiction or entertaining non-fiction. After 500+ pages, I was ready to leave this world behind and only regretted that there isn’t more of Simon’s work out there to take on next. (Simon has only two books to his name, this and Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets.)  This book is a five out of five stars, perhaps six. It should certainly be required reading for anyone who aspires to have an opinion about the war on drugs or welfare policy in the United States.

Book Review: Gulp by Mary Roach

Mary Roach

Mary Roach’s Gulp: Adventures on the Alimentary Canal is typical of her books, which is to say it’s a highly enjoyable read that belies the amount of research that’s obviously gone into the work.

Like her other books, Stiff, Bonk, Spook, etc., Roach takes a topic that doesn’t necessarily lend itself to polite conversation – and then takes the reader on an extensive tour of the topic by way of speaking to a slew of experts and extracting the most interesting trivia from previous research.

The bibliography in the book is 15 pages, and it’s copiously footnoted throughout. What distinguishes Gulp and the rest of Roach’s oeuvre from more traditional research is that she makes it entertaining and engaging.

Gulp starts at the beginning, as it were, with the role that smell plays in taste. (Which is to say, way more than most people realize.) From there, she looks at why humans and their pets prefer different foods, some of our past misconceptions about food and digestion (be thankful you’re not expected to Fletcherize), all the way the lower colon and out again.

Along the way we learn that, perhaps, Elvis’ death and “bloated” look may have had more to do with a genetic disease of the colon than drugs or overeating. Roach also touches drug smuggling in uncomfortable places (sadly, no Pulp Fiction references), how flammable flatus is, and (the word of the day) all about boluses.

The only thing I don’t like about the book? The cover art. For some reason I find it really obnoxious, which is not at all fitting for the book or Roach herself.

I had the opportunity to meet Roach, briefly, earlier in April when she made an appearance arranged by Left Bank Books. The evening, which included some food that emphasized points made in the book, was punctuated by a forced intermission where we all decamped to the basement to wait out a tornado warning. Roach was undaunted by this and spent the time talking to attendees and signing books.

Rather than doing a reading from the book, she just talked a bit about her experiences writing the book and covered some of the information you’ll find in the first few chapters. The rest of the time was spent answering questions or trying the food.

If you have the opportunity to see Roach in person, I strongly recommend it. She’s intelligent, personable, and funny as hell. I also recommend picking up Gulp and/or any of her other books. Her work makes for fast reading, and you’ll likely learn quite a bit you didn’t know before about how your body works.

Rating: 5/5