Sidewalk Satori

Hil posted a photo of New York graffiti which got a good deal of attention. I couldn’t resist adding my two bit’s worth.

My my. This post and these comments are more lit crit than anything else. I feel right at home. Worse, I’m reminded of a little epiphany from 1971 or thereabouts which, worst of all, I feel bound to share with everybody. (“Fly home, daughter, cover your ears.”)

When we moved to the city in 1970 a fancy town house three blocks south of us was blown up by the Weather Underground. On the big fence that hid the rubble somebody spray-painted the motto: Nothing Is Free. A young French intellectual came to visit. (Where are you now, Jean-Claude?) I took him for a walk through the neighborhood and when he saw those words he said sadly, “Ah bien sur, ’Rien n’est libre.’”

“No no,” I told him, “Rien n’est gratuit!” And at that moment I was enlightened.