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My first time in Seattle, I took a taxi from the airport to a little address near downtown, where I had an apartment for the summer. When I saw skyscrapers rising in the distance, I gasped and asked, "Is that the city?" The driver chuckled and said, no, that's one of the suburbs.
Then, once we got into the city proper, I gasped again, this time because of all of the trees. I'd been to cities before, and loved them, but so often cities meant concrete and gray and pathetic overtrimmed lawns that passed for parks. Here, we seemed to drive through whole forests, mere minutes from downtown, and directly next to soaring skyscrapers, people's lawns ran patchy and overgrown and wild. "Is it always this green here?" I asked the taxi driver. He laughed again and said, welcome to the Emerald City.
Which meant: yes. Yes and yes, oh my gosh yes.
He dropped me off at the address. By absurd good fortune, I had a twentieth-floor apartment with a view, and I stared out over trees and buildings and trees and trees for what felt like an hour. Then, I left to wander around my street, and wandered into the fanciest sushi place in the city by complete accident. I didn't realize my mistake until they seated me and handed me a menu and I panicked at the price tags. Abashed, I scuttled out and grabbed a sandwich from the Subway across the street instead. Then I bought some flowers from a girl as I wandered through a nearby park, and bought some groceries, and when I wandered home, the sun was still up. The sun didn't set until 9:30pm. Past nine! So much daylight! I called home two days later and, swooningly, told my parents that I was in love.
Which was ridiculous. I didn't love the city; how could I? I'd only been there for two days. I didn't even know the city yet. But I loved all that green. I loved summer. I loved being someplace new. Over the next few weeks, I loved talking to strangers on buses and at the local card shop, and I collected up other twentysomethings to go exploring all over —to an underground rap show, a hike, a summer festival, whatever. [1]
NEO: The World Ends With You loves Shibuya the very same way, the way only an excitable, loud, self-consciously hip twentysomething can love their chosen city: scattered, unfocused, naive, risible, and a bit shallow—but no less earnest and sincere, for all that!
( accidental effortpost about cities & fiction! discusses NEO TWEWY but no major spoilers )
Then, once we got into the city proper, I gasped again, this time because of all of the trees. I'd been to cities before, and loved them, but so often cities meant concrete and gray and pathetic overtrimmed lawns that passed for parks. Here, we seemed to drive through whole forests, mere minutes from downtown, and directly next to soaring skyscrapers, people's lawns ran patchy and overgrown and wild. "Is it always this green here?" I asked the taxi driver. He laughed again and said, welcome to the Emerald City.
Which meant: yes. Yes and yes, oh my gosh yes.
He dropped me off at the address. By absurd good fortune, I had a twentieth-floor apartment with a view, and I stared out over trees and buildings and trees and trees for what felt like an hour. Then, I left to wander around my street, and wandered into the fanciest sushi place in the city by complete accident. I didn't realize my mistake until they seated me and handed me a menu and I panicked at the price tags. Abashed, I scuttled out and grabbed a sandwich from the Subway across the street instead. Then I bought some flowers from a girl as I wandered through a nearby park, and bought some groceries, and when I wandered home, the sun was still up. The sun didn't set until 9:30pm. Past nine! So much daylight! I called home two days later and, swooningly, told my parents that I was in love.
Which was ridiculous. I didn't love the city; how could I? I'd only been there for two days. I didn't even know the city yet. But I loved all that green. I loved summer. I loved being someplace new. Over the next few weeks, I loved talking to strangers on buses and at the local card shop, and I collected up other twentysomethings to go exploring all over —to an underground rap show, a hike, a summer festival, whatever. [1]
NEO: The World Ends With You loves Shibuya the very same way, the way only an excitable, loud, self-consciously hip twentysomething can love their chosen city: scattered, unfocused, naive, risible, and a bit shallow—but no less earnest and sincere, for all that!
( accidental effortpost about cities & fiction! discusses NEO TWEWY but no major spoilers )
