What is real and what is not, how to preserve history and self in a changing landscape, and how to build roots where the ground does not accept them.Easy Victims to the Charitable Deceptions of Nostalgia grapples with the tensions associated with being exiled to home, with the environment and gentrification when there is a lack of land, and what that does to family, history, and family history. It is about the personal islands we all inhabit. Nostalgia is deceptive and seductive. We live in a time of tumult, a time therefore where the past may be, perhaps too easily, romanticized. There is a tendency to fall for these deceptions. Not just our own, but those of the generation before us, as well as the nostalgia of the generations that came before them, that they fell for. On the small island where this manuscript is largely set, there is such transience and such dependency on the narrative born of tourism that the truth and fiction of a place's history become skewed. As the water rises and the cost of living becomes such that working people and families rooted on the island for years cannot afford to live here, cannot risk staying, the distance to mainland seems lengthened. This is the perspective from which this book wrestles with the tough pull of nostalgia and the questions of what is real and what is not, how to preserve history and self in a changing landscape, and how to build roots where the ground does not accept them.
What is real and what is not, how to preserve history and self in a changing landscape, and how to build roots where the ground does not accept them.Easy Victims to the Charitable Deceptions of Nostalgia grapples with the tensions associated with being exiled to home, with the environment and gentrification when there is a lack of land, and what that does to family, history, and family history. It is about the personal islands we all inhabit. Nostalgia is deceptive and seductive. We live in a time of tumult, a time therefore where the past may be, perhaps too easily, romanticized. There is a tendency to fall for these deceptions. Not just our own, but those of the generation before us, as well as the nostalgia of the generations that came before them, that they fell for. On the small island where this manuscript is largely set, there is such transience and such dependency on the narrative born of tourism that the truth and fiction of a place's history become skewed. As the water rises and the cost of living becomes such that working people and families rooted on the island for years cannot afford to live here, cannot risk staying, the distance to mainland seems lengthened. This is the perspective from which this book wrestles with the tough pull of nostalgia and the questions of what is real and what is not, how to preserve history and self in a changing landscape, and how to build roots where the ground does not accept them.
