Life in New York teaches you to resist any romanticism
Life in New York teaches you to resist any romanticism, even if itâs because of romanticism that you have come to New York. Except for a few weeks in autumn, the weather is merciless. You stare blankly at a subway platform some night when youâre coming home late after a delicious dinner or a wonderful concert and you see a giant rat on the tracks. If you donât tip enough in a restaurant, the waiter or waitress, who a moment before smiled at you and encouraged you to call him or her by name, will storm out behind you demanding an explanation and at least fifteen percent of the bill. The free cab that you thought was coming slowly toward you will be snatched out from under your nose by a lady who has stepped in front of you on the sidewalk. If you donât go down the subway stairs as fast as you can, youâll be elbowed aside by someone whoâs in a bigger hurry than you are. The expert eye educated in New York quickly discovers the negative or shoddy side of what on the surface is impeccable.
â Antonio MuĂąoz Molina, Your Step on the Stairs. Trans. by Curtis Bauer. (Other Press, April 8, 2025)












