Still alive and well in New York City, subject of the following lovely passage (and many others) in Mark Helprin's Winter's Tale, which I am reading more slowly now that I'm getting towards the end, because I will be a little sad to be done. It's that good. Anyway:
Across the river, Manhattan shimmered in the moonlight — miles of white buildings sparkling like a forest of fireflies.... Manhattan, a cage of white ribs and a mass of glowing crystal, seemed nearly alive. The beauty in it lifted them far above their enemies and their troubles in the world, as if they were looking at life from the vantage point of the dead. Suddenly overcome with affection for the people they loved, they saw before them the city of sunshine and shadow, now covered in moonlight, and they loved it so much that they wanted to hold it in their arms. (520)It goes on, but you get the idea. Really, the author had me from "...the whole world has poured its heart into the city by the Palisades, and made it far better than it ever had any right to be." That's the third sentence of the Prologue. This book, it does not pull any punches. I am loving it. And life is pretty okay, too.