Steven Harper's Blog, page 14
February 3, 2024
Strange History
I stumbled across this: an interactive, annotated copy of A VEST POCKET GUIDE TO BROTHELS IN 19TH-CENTURY NEW YORK FOR GENTLEMEN ON THE GO:
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/documents/a-vest-pocket-guide-to-brothels-in-19th-century-new-york-for-gentlemen-on-the-go
It makes for a fascinating historical read, as well as a the occasional "just how many straight brothels were there in 1800s New York???" comment.
Some highlights from the annotations:
The book states in the introduction that, "we point out the location of these places in order that the reader may know how to avoid them." Cute. "No, officer! I was only in here learning how to avoid being in here!" But apparently there was indeed a running problem with tourists trying to rent a room in what they thought was a hotel, only to get a bit of a surprise.
The census of 1870 listed the occupation of most of the women as "keeping house" or "servant," but a few were listed as working in a "house of prostitution" or "house of assignation."
The houses were officially boarding houses for women. Some of them were technically true boarding houses who let their borders bring men into their rooms, and others were formal brothels with a madam working the parlor and her girls working upstairs.
One of the houses kept a bear in the cellar "but for what reason may be inferred."
One house boasted that it kept a doctor on call.
The book has ads for "Imported Male Safes: A Perfect Shield Against Disease or Conception Made of Both Skin & India Rubber."
The books were sold by a John F. Murray on 57 West Houston Street. There's no record of anyone with that name at that address in New York, and the NY TIMES couldn't find any clues to his real identity, or how he got such an encyclopedic knowledge of the houses.
In 1871, during the trial of a madam who ran a "disorderly house," the judge called on lawmakers to license brothels, "however repugnant to the moral notions of some people such an act of law might be" to make them less of a free-for-all.
The book makes it sound like prostitution in New York was largely genteel, populated by women who were amply rewarded for their work and enjoyed a decently high style of living. The reality, of course, was very, very different. Unwanted pregnancy that ended your "career" and left you without resources to care for your child. STIs in an era before antibiotics. Violence from "customers" that you didn't dare report to the police.
Really, the book encapsulates Victorian attitudes: anything goes as long as it =looks= respectable and you don't talk about the truth.
comments
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/documents/a-vest-pocket-guide-to-brothels-in-19th-century-new-york-for-gentlemen-on-the-go
It makes for a fascinating historical read, as well as a the occasional "just how many straight brothels were there in 1800s New York???" comment.
Some highlights from the annotations:
The book states in the introduction that, "we point out the location of these places in order that the reader may know how to avoid them." Cute. "No, officer! I was only in here learning how to avoid being in here!" But apparently there was indeed a running problem with tourists trying to rent a room in what they thought was a hotel, only to get a bit of a surprise.
The census of 1870 listed the occupation of most of the women as "keeping house" or "servant," but a few were listed as working in a "house of prostitution" or "house of assignation."
The houses were officially boarding houses for women. Some of them were technically true boarding houses who let their borders bring men into their rooms, and others were formal brothels with a madam working the parlor and her girls working upstairs.
One of the houses kept a bear in the cellar "but for what reason may be inferred."
One house boasted that it kept a doctor on call.
The book has ads for "Imported Male Safes: A Perfect Shield Against Disease or Conception Made of Both Skin & India Rubber."
The books were sold by a John F. Murray on 57 West Houston Street. There's no record of anyone with that name at that address in New York, and the NY TIMES couldn't find any clues to his real identity, or how he got such an encyclopedic knowledge of the houses.
In 1871, during the trial of a madam who ran a "disorderly house," the judge called on lawmakers to license brothels, "however repugnant to the moral notions of some people such an act of law might be" to make them less of a free-for-all.
The book makes it sound like prostitution in New York was largely genteel, populated by women who were amply rewarded for their work and enjoyed a decently high style of living. The reality, of course, was very, very different. Unwanted pregnancy that ended your "career" and left you without resources to care for your child. STIs in an era before antibiotics. Violence from "customers" that you didn't dare report to the police.
Really, the book encapsulates Victorian attitudes: anything goes as long as it =looks= respectable and you don't talk about the truth.
comments
stevenpiziks @ 2024-02-03T10:38:00
I stumbled across this: an interactive, annotated copy of A VEST POCKET GUIDE TO BROTHELS IN 19TH-CENTURY NEW YORK FOR GENTLEMEN ON THE GO:
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/documents/a-vest-pocket-guide-to-brothels-in-19th-century-new-york-for-gentlemen-on-the-go
It makes for a fascinating historical read, as well as a the occasional "just how many straight brothels were there in 1800s New York???" comment.
Some highlights from the annotations:
The book states in the introduction that, "we point out the location of these places in order that the reader may know how to avoid them." Cute. "No, officer! I was only in here learning how to avoid being in here!" But apparently there was indeed a running problem with tourists trying to rent a room in what they thought was a hotel, only to get a bit of a surprise.
The census of 1870 listed the occupation of most of the women as "keeping house" or "servant," but a few were listed as working in a "house of prostitution" or "house of assignation."
The houses were officially boarding houses for women. Some of them were technically true boarding houses who let their borders bring men into their rooms, and others were formal brothels with a madam working the parlor and her girls working upstairs.
One of the houses kept a bear in the cellar "but for what reason may be inferred."
One house boasted that it kept a doctor on call.
The book has ads for "Imported Male Safes: A Perfect Shield Against Disease or Conception Made of Both Skin & India Rubber."
The books were sold by a John F. Murray on 57 West Houston Street. There's no record of anyone with that name at that address in New York, and the NY TIMES couldn't find any clues to his real identity, or how he got such an encyclopedic knowledge of the houses.
In 1871, during the trial of a madam who ran a "disorderly house," the judge called on lawmakers to license brothels, "however repugnant to the moral notions of some people such an act of law might be" to make them less of a free-for-all.
The book makes it sound like prostitution in New York was largely genteel, populated by women who were amply rewarded for their work and enjoyed a decently high style of living. The reality, of course, was very, very different. Unwanted pregnancy that ended your "career" and left you without resources to care for your child. STIs in an era before antibiotics. Violence from "customers" that you didn't dare report to the police.
Really, the book encapsulates Victorian attitudes: anything goes as long as it =looks= respectable and you don't talk about the truth.
comments
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/documents/a-vest-pocket-guide-to-brothels-in-19th-century-new-york-for-gentlemen-on-the-go
It makes for a fascinating historical read, as well as a the occasional "just how many straight brothels were there in 1800s New York???" comment.
Some highlights from the annotations:
The book states in the introduction that, "we point out the location of these places in order that the reader may know how to avoid them." Cute. "No, officer! I was only in here learning how to avoid being in here!" But apparently there was indeed a running problem with tourists trying to rent a room in what they thought was a hotel, only to get a bit of a surprise.
The census of 1870 listed the occupation of most of the women as "keeping house" or "servant," but a few were listed as working in a "house of prostitution" or "house of assignation."
The houses were officially boarding houses for women. Some of them were technically true boarding houses who let their borders bring men into their rooms, and others were formal brothels with a madam working the parlor and her girls working upstairs.
One of the houses kept a bear in the cellar "but for what reason may be inferred."
One house boasted that it kept a doctor on call.
The book has ads for "Imported Male Safes: A Perfect Shield Against Disease or Conception Made of Both Skin & India Rubber."
The books were sold by a John F. Murray on 57 West Houston Street. There's no record of anyone with that name at that address in New York, and the NY TIMES couldn't find any clues to his real identity, or how he got such an encyclopedic knowledge of the houses.
In 1871, during the trial of a madam who ran a "disorderly house," the judge called on lawmakers to license brothels, "however repugnant to the moral notions of some people such an act of law might be" to make them less of a free-for-all.
The book makes it sound like prostitution in New York was largely genteel, populated by women who were amply rewarded for their work and enjoyed a decently high style of living. The reality, of course, was very, very different. Unwanted pregnancy that ended your "career" and left you without resources to care for your child. STIs in an era before antibiotics. Violence from "customers" that you didn't dare report to the police.
Really, the book encapsulates Victorian attitudes: anything goes as long as it =looks= respectable and you don't talk about the truth.
comments
January 23, 2024
What I'm Working On
At the moment, I have two novels out circulating. One is a fantasy set in 12th-century Ukraine. The other is a science fiction novel involving intergalactic conflict and living ships. Ye Agente is marketing both.
In the meantime, I've started work on an MM romance set in Venice, for the simple reason that I just visited Venice and I liked it. The main character is an American expat who lives in Venice, and he's a wishful version of me--I've always been fascinated with the idea of dropping everything over here and moving to a garret apartment in a European city. It's great fun to write!
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In the meantime, I've started work on an MM romance set in Venice, for the simple reason that I just visited Venice and I liked it. The main character is an American expat who lives in Venice, and he's a wishful version of me--I've always been fascinated with the idea of dropping everything over here and moving to a garret apartment in a European city. It's great fun to write!
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More Ice
Ice day! No school again. We lost two days out of four last week, and now we're losing a day this week. We just can't get this semester off the ground.
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January 16, 2024
Surprise Cooking in the Cold
It's dangerously cold out there, and although the skies are clear, the streets are treacherous with ice and packed snow that won't melt, even with liberal applications of salt. Wherever Schools closed today, and then we got the announcement they're closed tomorrow, too. This was already a three-day weekend because the semester ended, and now it's stretching into a five-day! If I had known this was going to happen, I would have taken a trip somewhere warm.
During a normal week around here, Darwin gets home well after supper time two days in three, so I don't cook nearly as much I'd like. But the Village of Lake Orion has a policy that when the schools close, village hall also closes, and Darwin has been home, too. So I revved up the kitchen.
Yesterday I made chicken pot pie: hearty and hot and wonderful when it's freezing out.
Today I really went for it:
--Banana bread (to use up some overripe bananas)
--Regular bread (in the bread maker)
--Beef roast stuffed with bacon, onions, and carrots and covered in more bacon
--Mashed potatoes
--Butterscotch oatmeal cookies (made extra-crispy, the way Darwin likes them)
With schools closed again tomorrow, who knows what I'll come up with?
comments
During a normal week around here, Darwin gets home well after supper time two days in three, so I don't cook nearly as much I'd like. But the Village of Lake Orion has a policy that when the schools close, village hall also closes, and Darwin has been home, too. So I revved up the kitchen.
Yesterday I made chicken pot pie: hearty and hot and wonderful when it's freezing out.
Today I really went for it:
--Banana bread (to use up some overripe bananas)
--Regular bread (in the bread maker)
--Beef roast stuffed with bacon, onions, and carrots and covered in more bacon
--Mashed potatoes
--Butterscotch oatmeal cookies (made extra-crispy, the way Darwin likes them)
With schools closed again tomorrow, who knows what I'll come up with?
comments
January 15, 2024
My Birthday
I turned 57 this year. It was nice. I got birthday cards from several people. My work wife Michelle gave me a flowering plant and a small cake. And Darwin had a bouquet of flowers delivered. It was in shape of a birthday cake, complete with candles. And chocolates, too!
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It was a nice birthday.
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[image error]
It was a nice birthday.
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Winter Arrived ... All at Once
Last week was exams, and there was the usual begging to turn in assignments that were due weeks ago and asking if there was extra credit. ("Only if you have an IEP" and "no" are my answers, respectively.)
But we were all keeping an eye on the weather.
A big storm was heading our way, one that was engulfing the entire country. We've had a LOT of storms this winter in the USA, but they always somehow skirted Metro Detroit. Chicago, Buffalo, the entire east coast got socked with several bouts of awful weather, but Detroit just hummed and buffed its nails. It was the second week of January, and we still hadn't seen any snow, and temperatures were often in the 40s.
This storm, Detroit's first, was supposed to arrive some time on Friday, the last day of exams. For the first time ever, my students were hoping we WOULDN'T have a snow day. I agreed. A snow day would mean the exams would be tipped over onto the Tuesday after we got back from a three-day weekend, and no one wanted the specter of a set of exams hanging over them.
But at last it became clear that the storm wouldn't hit until late Friday afternoon or early evening. No need to cancel school. As a precaution, I ordered groceries (we had little food in the house) and Darwin picked them up Friday morning.
I gave the last exam, graded everything, packed up my stuff, and fled. Darwin was already home. Not long after I arrived, the snow started, slow and heavy. It picked up steam, stopped, started up again, rushed into blizzard level. Later, the temperature rose and it switched to a rain that created a crisp coating on the snow, then went back to snow again. We watched from inside, glad we didn't have to outside.
The snow abruptly stopped Saturday morning. Then the deep freeze set in. Temperatures dropped and the wind climbed. Bone-cracking don't-go-out cold. This morning, the wind chill was -20F. If it hadn't been a holiday, we probably wouldn't have had school.
So today we're mewed up in the house. I'm making chicken pie and banana bread and not going anwyhere!
comments
But we were all keeping an eye on the weather.
A big storm was heading our way, one that was engulfing the entire country. We've had a LOT of storms this winter in the USA, but they always somehow skirted Metro Detroit. Chicago, Buffalo, the entire east coast got socked with several bouts of awful weather, but Detroit just hummed and buffed its nails. It was the second week of January, and we still hadn't seen any snow, and temperatures were often in the 40s.
This storm, Detroit's first, was supposed to arrive some time on Friday, the last day of exams. For the first time ever, my students were hoping we WOULDN'T have a snow day. I agreed. A snow day would mean the exams would be tipped over onto the Tuesday after we got back from a three-day weekend, and no one wanted the specter of a set of exams hanging over them.
But at last it became clear that the storm wouldn't hit until late Friday afternoon or early evening. No need to cancel school. As a precaution, I ordered groceries (we had little food in the house) and Darwin picked them up Friday morning.
I gave the last exam, graded everything, packed up my stuff, and fled. Darwin was already home. Not long after I arrived, the snow started, slow and heavy. It picked up steam, stopped, started up again, rushed into blizzard level. Later, the temperature rose and it switched to a rain that created a crisp coating on the snow, then went back to snow again. We watched from inside, glad we didn't have to outside.
The snow abruptly stopped Saturday morning. Then the deep freeze set in. Temperatures dropped and the wind climbed. Bone-cracking don't-go-out cold. This morning, the wind chill was -20F. If it hadn't been a holiday, we probably wouldn't have had school.
So today we're mewed up in the house. I'm making chicken pie and banana bread and not going anwyhere!
comments
January 13, 2024
Dora and the Evil Fireplace
The living room was chilly this morning, so I headed for the fireplace. Dora ran ahead of me and flopped down on the hearth, demanding to be petted. I told her what was going to happen, but she ignored me. I flipped the switch to ignite the fireplace. It came on behind her with a BOOF! It was like watching a cartoon character. She shot to her feet to bolt away, but her claws got no joy on the stone, so she scrabbled in place for several seconds. Finally she got some purchase and rushed away, all outraged terror.Cats earn their keep through entertainment value.
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January 6, 2024
Death by Petting
Darwin McClary was petting Dinah. Dorah was staring, jealous and unhappy because SHE wasn't being petted. I snapped my fingers at Dorah to get her attention and let her know I was willing to pet her. She was so intent on being jealous that she missed it completely. Finally Dinah noticed I was tapping my fingers. She left Darwin and trotted over to me. Dorah now realized that TWO humans had petted Dinah and NONE had petted her.
Darwin brought Dinah back over to him for petting, and Dorah at last realized I was willing to pet her fluffy fat butt. I petted her exactly the way she likes it, but her eyes remained focused on Darwin who was STILL PETTING DINAH!!
Eventually, she couldn't stand it. She stormed over to Darwin to demand that he pet her EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS BEING PETTED ALREADY. It wasn't enough that she was being petted. She needed to be the ONLY ONE who was petted.
Darwin refused to touch her. I turned back to my computer. Now Dorah realized NEITHER human was petting her. She came back to me, demanding that I return to petting duty.
"Nnnnope!" I said. "Buzz off."
Now she's sitting in the corner, looking confused and affronted, a victim of her own greed.
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Darwin brought Dinah back over to him for petting, and Dorah at last realized I was willing to pet her fluffy fat butt. I petted her exactly the way she likes it, but her eyes remained focused on Darwin who was STILL PETTING DINAH!!
Eventually, she couldn't stand it. She stormed over to Darwin to demand that he pet her EVEN THOUGH SHE WAS BEING PETTED ALREADY. It wasn't enough that she was being petted. She needed to be the ONLY ONE who was petted.
Darwin refused to touch her. I turned back to my computer. Now Dorah realized NEITHER human was petting her. She came back to me, demanding that I return to petting duty.
"Nnnnope!" I said. "Buzz off."
Now she's sitting in the corner, looking confused and affronted, a victim of her own greed.
comments
January 2, 2024
New Year's Observations, 2024
--The new year has arrived safely. We got the text that it had been delivered and we got it into the house before the porch pirates found it.
--2023 had its nice points, but it was marred by the deaths of my sister-in-law and my brother. This was the first holiday season without Paul, and it was hard.
--Darwin wanted to throw a New Year's Eve card party of the kind his mother had. I let him. :) By this, I mean I let him arrange everything. I planned and pulled off Thanksgiving and Christmas (with a second Christmas at my mother's, which required a fair amount of planning and pulling off of its own). By New Year's, I was done! Darwin ordered pizza and made party potatoes.
--The party went very nicely. Lots of food, lots of lively card playing. My great-niece Lorelei, who is two and up way, way past her usual bedtime, was a little sweetie all evening and didn't throw a single "I'm TIRED" tantrum. We were all mightily impressed.
--In the morning, I remembered to say "Rabbit, rabbit" when I woke up. So 2024 has to be better. Right?
--On New Year's Day afternoon, Darwin and I de-holidayed the house. The tree came down, the decorations went into their packing, and the boxes went into the storage room until next year. I always insist we do it this way--on New Year's Day, everyone is home (even if "everyone" is just the two of us), and if we put it off further, it won't get done until Valentines Day. It didn't take long, really. We've cut back on the amount of decorating we do, which makes many things easier!
--It was a smooth, if bittersweet, holiday season.
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--2023 had its nice points, but it was marred by the deaths of my sister-in-law and my brother. This was the first holiday season without Paul, and it was hard.
--Darwin wanted to throw a New Year's Eve card party of the kind his mother had. I let him. :) By this, I mean I let him arrange everything. I planned and pulled off Thanksgiving and Christmas (with a second Christmas at my mother's, which required a fair amount of planning and pulling off of its own). By New Year's, I was done! Darwin ordered pizza and made party potatoes.
--The party went very nicely. Lots of food, lots of lively card playing. My great-niece Lorelei, who is two and up way, way past her usual bedtime, was a little sweetie all evening and didn't throw a single "I'm TIRED" tantrum. We were all mightily impressed.
--In the morning, I remembered to say "Rabbit, rabbit" when I woke up. So 2024 has to be better. Right?
--On New Year's Day afternoon, Darwin and I de-holidayed the house. The tree came down, the decorations went into their packing, and the boxes went into the storage room until next year. I always insist we do it this way--on New Year's Day, everyone is home (even if "everyone" is just the two of us), and if we put it off further, it won't get done until Valentines Day. It didn't take long, really. We've cut back on the amount of decorating we do, which makes many things easier!
--It was a smooth, if bittersweet, holiday season.
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