The best books about New York City subcultures

Growing up in New York City, I’ll never forget my first experience, at around the age of seven, with people literally living underground. Our subway stalled in a tunnel in front of an abandoned station. The lights went off in the car and the platform outside was cast in an eerie orange glow by a single bulb.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, charged my subway car, and started banging wildly and laughing maniacally, just on the other side of the glass to me. This continued for what felt like a million years before the train came back to life, and we moved on.

Decades later, I discovered this book about a parallel city below mine where people like that man live an alternative existence in miles and miles of dark warrens underground. I’m obsessed with it.

If you ask me or anyone else in the punk scene in 80s/90s New York, St. Mark’s Place—which was the epicenter of cool in our day—is a sad parody of itself now, touristy and dull. Until I read this book, I assumed its heyday began and ended with us, with Trash and Vaudeville and Manic Panic, with drinking 40-ounce beers on stoops.

Well, it turns out every generation that’s ever had a heyday on this famous, radical, anarchic block—whether as a gangster or dancing at Andy Warhol’s notorious Electric Circus parties—thought theirs was the only era that mattered. Calhoun chronicles hundreds of years of this exact attitude, which is fascinating and gives me some perspective.

I lived on the Lower East Side of NYC for decades before moving to the UK. It’s a fairly small area, but at one point was filled beyond capacity with new immigrants to the U.S. who worked hard and mostly lived in squalor.

Through his photos and writing, Jacob Riis humanized their experience and exposed the reality of their pursuit of the American dream, which was often brutal. As a photographer, I was inspired by him to help shine a light on the voices of underrepresented groups. I used to carry this book around with me to locate the buildings in it—photographed 150 years ago—in the modern day.

It’s a love story to—and in defense of—the immigrants who’ve shaped America.

The only thing that makes me cringe about this book is that I was supposed to be in the film adaptation when I was young, but my (violent and idiotic) boyfriend at the time ruined that opportunity for me. It’s essentially a series of entertaining, hilarious, edgy stand-alone stories that interweave into chapters, turning what could have been short stories into a novel.

It perfectly freezes in amber a moment in time (the 80s NY downtown art scene), the type of incredible characters who lived in it, motivated by conflated goals of self-expression and fame, and how it shaped/distorted/sometimes destroyed them.

Having been a part of the art and music scenes in NY a bit later, reckoning with my own aspirations and ego and navigating a cavalcade of incredible, sometimes menacing, often ego-centric characters in my own life, it rings true.

While most of the action doesn’t take place in NY, key scenes do and those are generally heartbreaking and speak to a city that allows for new beginnings and fresh starts for all, as well as a place that can swallow you whole.

Written about streets and squats I knew, the sentimental aspect was off the charts for me. But even without that connection, Jeannette’s writing is so moving that it will bring you emotionally into a unique, often hidden world.