San Francisco Noir by Fred Lyon

Author:Fred Lyon [Lyon, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Princeton Architectural Press
Published: 2017-03-17T04:00:00+00:00

…facing the vastness of the Pacific Ocean as it clings perilously to the Western edge of the continent. So who would be surprised that the City by the Bay felt a need to bolster its identity? The gold rush jolted the sleepy village from a long nap that will never be resumed. Swept in with the influx of opportunists, a core of raffish rascals grabbed the reins of a burgeoning government and a society already out of control.

But what a town! Bursting with energy, it seized fistfuls of its most doubtful characters, anointing them with instant celebrity — and morality be damned! Con men jousted with robber barons. A laundress could rise to be the proprietress of a grand mansion of fantasy. That mood of gilded sleaze breeds a thirst for risk in the populace that persists to this day. It’s the fond myth of San Francisco Noir. Just turn up the collar of your trench coat, settle your fedora low on your head, and strike a match to that cigarette dangling from your mouth. You’re in.

San Francisco is a whole city of romantics and would-be’s. Is there something about this place that’s like catnip, drawing personalities that are slightly and pleasantly demented? Or is it a process that is swept in with the fog, addicting the unwary to a future of full blast living?

Those of us who were born here, plus legions of transplanted dreamers, truly believe that there’s something more adventurous about pursuing life near the water, something slightly rakish, possibly even dangerous, and of course endearingly mysterious.

Just think of all the elements there are to support this argument: lonely streetlights in narrow Chinatown alleys, moaning foghorns, the clang of cable car conductor bells on California Street, the clouds of steam swirling over the Fisherman’s Wharf crab pots.

It’s all demanded by our history. There’s this cinematic glamour of an era when people dressed for dinner, contrasted with the fog-wrapped tinkle of melancholy jazz, seen through a smoky whiskey haze. Noir may be a grand illusion, but let’s grab the brass ring. What a wild and wonderful ride!

Fred Lyon

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