Writing About New Orleans
Ah, New Orleans. The old hometown. It’s a cliche and perhaps a crutch to write about your place of origin, even when it’s by reputation one of the most interesting places on Earth (which is overblown, but that’s a topic for another time).
The truth is always stranger than fiction, though. I grew up in the suburbs outside the city, spent my twenties navigating its oddball neighborhoods, and eventually left because it was my firm belief that you can’t really learn anything about yourself unless you get out from where you’re from.
It’s funny, but when I left the city was going through this exciting outsider-art/music Renaissance - in the late 1990s cool stuff was happening seemingly on every corner, with new and in some cases truly inspired people stepping into the scene at the time. There were these unofficial clubs sprouting up off St. Claude heading toward Algiers where people like Quintron the organist and his friend Miss Pussycat would stage really odd musical puppet shows. The Shim Sham Club was hosting burlesque shows and some outstanding rock-n-roll. And as always the Uptown art scene was first-rate.
There was this energy around the city that seemed driven by outsiders who nonetheless had an appreciation for what had gone before. I distinctly remember seeing a three-piece outfit called Fireball Rocket backing venerable New Orleans R&B great Ernie K-Doe on several occasions. Imagine Southern Culture on the Skids riding support behind a slightly less crazy James Brown, and you get the picture.
Good times.
Still, I had to get away. The manner in which I left and the circumstances I found myself in when I arrived in Austin, Texas (just days before September 11th, 2001) weren’t ideal. But how do you know who you are when you stare into a hall of mirrors, forever reminded of and confronted with all the mistakes you made? Sure, there were joys, too. But leaving gave me a perspective that I use as a writer.
Now that I’ve studied a little bit about the city’s history (particularly the rough-and-tumble period of post-Civil War New Orleans), I incorporate that knowledge without getting wistful about it. That’s something most people who write about New Orleans do - there’s always this sideways glance to remind the reader of the greatness of a bygone age. But what about the people who actually live there? Not the daguerreotype sepia tones of what somebody wishes the place was.
What is that town actually all about?
Sometimes I wish I knew. And cracking that code, that’s been a lifetime mystery that lately has occupied my thoughts and writing time. Hopefully, I’ll be able to nudge something out of this process that people will enjoy.
