Bővebb ismertető
Introduction
"I do not know that in all my travels I ever visited a city less interesting to the normal tourist," wrote English novelist-of-manners Anthony Trollope in 1875. "There is almost nothing to see in San Francisco that is worth seeing."
Rudyard Kipling thought otherwise. Little more than a decade later he was to find San Francisco "a mad city—inhabited for the most part by perfectly insane people whose women are of a remarkable beauty."
A half-starved young Armenian writer, William Saroyan, added his comment in the midst of the great depression: "If you're alive, you can't be bored in San Francisco."
The three impressions are neither totally false nor totally contradictory. It all depends on your point of view. Even less than most cities does San Francisco lend itself to pat classification. For each general statement made about it, there is sure to be a completely contradictory opinion.
It is sophisticated, at times. It offers a remarkable flowering of the arts, but rarely gives them adequate support. It is Western, but lacks a well-stocked Western apparel store. It is a rich city—its per capita income (and, alas, outgo) among the highest in the world, yet to many of its residents poverty is a constant reality. It is uncommonly beautiful, but avoids facing the problems of its large skid row. It is a world apart from Los Angeles, but is, on occasion, also afflicted with smog.
Which, for all intents and purposes, leads to two conclusions: 1. San Francisco is a city of contrasts; 2. There is no one San Francisco. Each of us—resident, visitor, or exile-sees reflected here mostly what he or she wants to see. San Francisco is not, as sometimes described, a state of mind; it is many states of mind, not only varying among individuals, but depending upon our moods and momentary desires.
This might apply equally well to any major City or town