Books like This Is New York — picked by fans

Love taught C.J. to see.

Nana never preaches or teaches with speeches. Nana helps C.J. learn to see the beauty where he didn't even know to look. From the kind bus driver to the blind man, each was respected for their uniqueness.

My favorite part was when they all closed their eyes to listen to the music. C.J. was transported by his imagination high above the city, into the clouds, tasting what he had yet to see.

The grace is evident throughout. When they end at the soup kitchen, and Nana shows her caring, that circle of grace is complete. From Nana's lessons to her laughing, to her caring, her ability to see is that beauty.

A Lion in Paris is the story about a Lion who moves to Paris to find a job, love, and a future. The book is a beautiful portrayal of what it’s like to be a stranger in a new city, especially one as big and busy as Paris. You may feel a bit lonely at first, but with time you’ll be able to find your own special place. 

The combination of Julia Donaldson and Rebecca Cobb is fantastic. I love the playful illustrations (just look at the children’s hair!), and the rhymes make the story sing. The book tells the story about the Bear from Class One who accidentally gets lost and thus begins his big adventure throughout the city showing us places that can sometimes be hidden from our everyday lives.  

This book is all about using your imagination! It will surely inspire you to observe and create your very own world or city, where anything is possible. Laura Carlin’s illustrations are wonderfully witty and it shows you how you can take an everyday thing and turn it into something new and totally exciting.  

I’ve lived in New York City all of my life. I sang doo-wop in Washington Square Park in Greenwich Village when I was a teenager, and then folk rock with my group, The New Outlook.

If ever there was a time-travel ticket to a past and a place that I knew so well I could still see the sun glinting through the tree leaves, hear the din of the eateries as I walked by, and, most important, still hear the music by people vastly more famous than me, music that actually defied any given time or place, it would be David Browne's book, Talkin' Greenwich Village.  

They were poets, actresses, singers, artists, journalists, publishers, baronesses, and benefactresses. They were thinkers, and they were drinkers. Edna St Vincent Millay, Djuna Barnes, Isadora Duncan, and Ma Rainey–knew how to have fun.

I love the way the author deftly describes each woman—women who lived in an era that still defined women as second-class citizens. Each was unique in her own way—bold, brassy, and making no compromise with gender and sexual norms of the day.

This book is an entertaining and informative guide to the music, martinis, and sometimes mayhem of these daring, brazen, and historical heroines! 

Don’t be fooled into thinking that just because the main character (and in fact most of the characters) in this book is a cat it’s only for very young readers. This charming and elegant story, the first of a series, takes place in Greenwich Village, where a small black orphaned cat named Jenny finds a home with a sea captain and a community with her neighborhood felines. Jenny’s explorations of the then-dicey neighborhood and encounters with less fortunate cats are ridiculously poignant and moving, and her foot-high view of her city feels entirely authentic.  

We read several popular novels that explore competitive school environments. One of the best in this sub-genre is Small Admissions, by Amy Poeppel, which provides a fictional glimpse into the cut-throat world of Manhattan prep school admissions and ultra-competitive parents. Poeppel crafts a fun, wicked read with sharp dialogue. We could easily imagine what would happen when the children in Small Admissions apply to college…their parents would fit in well with the characters in our book.

“I saw a little boy on the street today, and he cried so eloquently that I will never forget him.” Maeve Brennan wrote for the New Yorker’s Talk of the Town section as ‘The Long-Winded Lady’ from 1954 to 1968. She roamed the city’s streets, bars, and restaurants, eyes wide open, weaving stories of vivid emotional detail from the most seemingly mundane moments. None of these are too long – in the waiting room concentration can be fleeting – but each sketch engages. Her story of the crying boy ends this way: “He might have been the last bird in the world, except that if he had been the last bird there would have been no one to hear him.”

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.