Quiet Street

Informationen zum Autor NICK McDONELL is the author of the novels Twelve, The Third Brother, An Expensive Education, and The Council of Animals, as well as a work of political theory, The Civilization of Perpetual Movement, and four books of reportage on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, including The Bodies in Person . He has contributed reporting and essays to Harper's Magazine, London Review of Books, Libération, The Paris Review, newyorker.com, and TIME, among other publications. His work has been published in twenty-three countries and appeared on best-seller lists around the world. Klappentext "A bold and moving exploration of the American elite that exposes how the ruling class-even when well-intentioned-perpetuates cycles of wealth, power, and injustice Growing up on New York City's Upper East Side, Nick McDonell was surrounded by luxury-sailing lessons in the Hamptons, school galas at the Met, and holidays on private jets. It was this rarified life that he explored in his early novels, but then left behind as a war correspondent in Iraq and Afghanistan. In Quiet Street, McDonell returns to the sidewalks of his youth, exhuming his own upbringing, and those of his wealthy peers, with bracing honesty. Through summer safaris and winter ski trips, ill-omened handshakes and schoolyard microaggressions, fox-hunting rituals and sexually precocious tweens, McDonell examines the ruling class in painstaking detail, documenting how wealth and power are hoarded, encoded, and passed down from one generation to the next. Crucially, he also demonstrates how outsiders-the poor, the non-white, the suburban-are kept in the dark. Searing and precise yet always deeply human, Quiet Street examines the problem of America's one-percenters, whose vision of a more just world never materializes. Who are these people, how do they hold on to power, and what would it take for them to share it? Quiet Street pursues these questions through the highly personal, but universal, experience of growing up and coming to terms with the culture that made you"-- Leseprobe The opulence of New York City is famous. Count­less streaming programs, articles, novels, films, and social media feeds are dedicated to the markers of American oligarchy. Shows and films like Succession, The Devil Wears Prada, The Wolf of Wall Street; TikTok videos like what your rich mom coffee shop says about you: If you get your coffee at Via, you're a seventeen-year-old who is probably richer than me; novels like The Bonfire of the Vanities and Breakfast at Tiffany's . Some examples of the genre, like The Great Gatsby, are staples of public education. The wealth is not a secret; neither is the inevitable violent decadence. I remem­ber a schoolmate who bragged about defecating in bed so the maid would have to clean it up. Such behavior extended to the highest reaches of power, as was clear in President Trump's casual sexism and violence. One of his children and one of his grandchildren attended the same school as I and the aforementioned defecator. Still, I have affection for this school, which was called Buckley. It had a reputation for rigor, conservatism, old wealth, and athletic dominance over the dozen or so top tier private schools in the city. All sat in a highly developed hierarchy. Chapin girls marry doctors, Brearley girls become doctors, Spence girls have affairs with doctors, went one well-known say­ing about those particular girls' schools. Still, all the schools had more in common than not, and if a child attended any one of them, he'd be well prepared to achieve, maintain, and perhaps surpass his parents' position in society. This preparation was accomplished as much by what was not taught as what was. For example. At Buckley, we had Quiet Street. It began with a turn we'd make on the charter busesnot yellow school busesthat w...

Autorentext
NICK McDONELL is the author of the novels Twelve, The Third Brother, An Expensive Education, and The Council of Animals, as well as a work of political theory, The Civilization of Perpetual Movement, and four books of reportage on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, including The Bodies in Person. He has contributed reporting and essays to Harper’s Magazine, London Review of Books, Libération, The Paris Review, newyorker.com, and TIME, among other publications. His work has been published in twenty-three countries and appeared on best-seller lists around the world.

Klappentext

A bold and deeply personal exploration of wealth, power, and the American elite, exposing how the ruling class—intentionally or not—perpetuates cycles of injustice

"[A] story about American inequity, and how it mindlessly, immorally, reproduces itself. Unlike most such stories, however, this one left me believing in the possibility...of drastic change." —Maggie Nelson, author of On Freedom

Nick McDonell grew up on New York City’s Upper East Side, a neighborhood defined by its wealth and influence. As a child, McDonell enjoyed everything that rarefied world entailed—sailing lessons in the Hamptons, school galas at the Met, and holiday trips on private jets. But as an adult, he left it behind to become a foreign correspondent in Iraq and Afghanistan.

In Quiet Street, McDonell returns to the sidewalks of his youth, exhuming with bracing honesty his upbringing and those of his affluent peers. From Galápagos Island cruises and Tanzanian safaris to steely handshakes and schoolyard microaggressions to fox-hunting rituals and the courtship rites of sexually precocious tweens, McDonell examines the rearing of the ruling class in scalpel-sharp detail, documenting how wealth and power are hoarded, encoded, and passed down from one generation to the next. What’s more, he demonstrates how outsiders—the poor, the nonwhite, the suburban—are kept out.

Searing and precise yet ultimately full of compassion, Quiet Street examines the problem of America’s one percent, whose vision of a more just world never materializes. Who are these people? How do they cling to power? What would it take for them to share it? Quiet Street looks for answers in a universal experience: coming to terms with the culture that made you.

Leseprobe
The opulence of New York City is famous. Count­less streaming programs, articles, novels, films, and social media feeds are dedicated to the markers of American oligarchy. Shows and films like Succession, The Devil Wears Prada, The Wolf of Wall Street; TikTok videos like what your rich mom coffee shop says about you: “If you get your coffee at Via, you’re a seventeen-year-old who is probably richer than me”; novels like The Bonfire of the Vanities and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Some examples of the genre, like The Great Gatsby, are staples of public education. The wealth is not a secret; neither is the inevitable violent decadence. I remem­ber a schoolmate who bragged about defecating in bed so the maid would have to clean it up. Such behavior extended to the highest reaches of power, as was clear in President Trump’s casual sexism and violence. One of his children and one of his grandchildren attended the same school as I and the aforementioned defecator.
 
Still, I have affection for this school, which was called Buckley. It had a reputation for rigor, conservatism, old wealth, and athletic dominance over the dozen or so “top tier” private schools in the city. All sat in a highly developed hierarchy. “Chapin girls marry doctors, Brearley girls become doctors, Spence girls have affairs with doctors,” went one well-known say­ing about those particular girls’ schools. Still, all the schools had more in common than not, and if a child attended any one of them, he’d be well prepared to achieve, maintain, and perhaps surpass his pare…