Books like Fiorello H. La Guardia and the Making of Modern New York — picked by fans

This history traces some of the ties between Irish revolutionaries and Jewish ones in Palestine and provides an unvarnished history of the events and personalities leading to the establishment of the Jewish state.

For Paul O’Dwyer, his own activism as an “Irish Zionist” in New York after WWII was motivated by his antagonism towards the British, viewing the British Mandate in what was then Palestine as the chief obstacle to a lasting arrangement beneficial to Jews and Arabs. He supported Jewish militant groups seeking to evict the British and open Palestine’s ports much wider to Holocaust survivors in Europe.

A suspenseful account of the corrupt underworld centered on the harbor where Paul O’Dwyer worked on the docks as a law student at St. John’s and in the criminal courthouse as a young attorney cutting his teeth during the Great Depression.

It shows the often claustrophobic social and political world from which Paul soon made his escape to the more cosmopolitan Manhattan, beginning his career as a lawyer known in part for defending union leaders, lawyers, and activists targeted for exercising their First Amendment rights in the reactionary Cold War and Vietnam War eras to come.

One of O’Dwyer’s early prominent battles for the First Amendment and civil rights occurred when he represented families evicted for opposing a racial color line in the selection of tenants of MetLife’s Stuyvesant Town in lower Manhattan, built with assistance from the La Guardia administration.

Through Bagli’s carefully researched history of this watershed battle over the authority of a private landlord to bar African Americans, he explains that O’Dwyer’s involvement in the case on behalf of progressive tenants helped pave the way for Metlife to build the smaller Riverton housing development in Harlem as a concession to critics. Over time, city and state laws would make housing discrimination illegal.

A richly detailed and often riveting narrative on the 1960s, particularly the divisive and tumultuous 1968 Democratic National Convention in Chicago and the enormous antiwar movement (both events in which O’Dwyer played a leading role as a Senate candidate and anti-Vietnam War ally of Eugene McCarthy).

Accounts of urban riots drawn in part from court records bring the decade’s harsh and even brutal edge to life.

Long before he became a Trump apologist, Rudy Giuliani was regarded by some as “America’s Mayor" in the wake of 9/11.

He led the city’s response to the World Trade Center attack, and in the view of many, he provided strong leadership in that crucial time, marshaling the city’s resources during the search, recovery, rescue, and beginning of the clean-up process. He attended what seemed like an endless stream of funerals for FDNY and NYPD members who were killed on 9/11, eulogizing the city’s dead heroes.

Barrett and Collins – two skilled NYC reporters – dive deep into the failings of the Giuliani mayoral administration that may have contributed to the loss of life among first responders that fateful day, including the well-documented problems with FDNY radios that hampered the efforts to evacuate FDNY members before the Twin Towers collapsed.

I abhorred Robert Moses from the first time I opened this book 20 years ago.

This power-grabbing bureaucratic functionary made me ill on some level, mad as hell on another, and want to take a shower after each time I opened the book.

In the end, I still hated Moses for his gall and immoral audacity, but you could not deny his accomplishments, as he saw them. Nevertheless, I had to love a book that could take such a scoundrel whom I grew to loathe and make me glad I read it.

I love all Dawn Powell’s novels, but this 1936 satire of the New York literary scene might be my favorite.

Powell brilliantly captures the metropolitan grit and glamour of New York City in the 1930s, the backstabbing literary gossip, hard-drinking parties and seedy bars, and all the publishing world’s deep loyalties and betrayals. The city itself is a character, and all the people in the book feel both true to life and larger than life.

The book follows the aspiring writer Dennis Orphen, who is guilty of stealing the details of his dear friend’s life in his novel—and what ensues is hilarious, sparkling, and surprisingly moving.

My favorite gay autobiography. Humorous, explicit, and thought-provoking. Like my story, his is far from a neatly packaged “coming out” story of self-acceptance. He describes some way-out-of-bounds-for-most-people sexual adventures in detail but with no intention to shock or titillate. He is just telling stories he finds interesting, and he is a great storyteller. Not surprising, since he is a celebrated science fiction author.

Always surprising in a quirky way. Example: in the 1950s, he is at an outdoor gay cruising area at night when there is a police raid. It is only as the men flee that he grasps how many were there: hundreds. It is his first sense of being in a large gay male community, and it is empowering.

If you read one biography/memoir of a Gilded Age criminal, make it this one. It tells the story (often in his own words) of the celebrated pickpocket George Appo, an odd little half-Chinese, half-Irish, one-eyed fellow who could make $800 in a few days when most working men made less than that in a year. Appo would rivet New Yorkers when he testified about his second career as a “green goods” con man, working to swindle gullible out-of-towners who came to buy purported counterfeit money at a discount, only to discover that there was nothing but sawdust inside the packages they carried away. Appo refused to name names, though, as he was a self-described “good fellow.”  

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.