San Francisco Noir

Начало книги

Recently strolling through the narrow back alleys of Chinatown, I chanced upon an elderly Asian man playing a Chinese double-stringed violin known as an erhu. He was performing an eerie and atonal rendition of “Auld Lang Syne.” I noticed a faint smile upon his lips as his fingers moved effortlessly up and down the neck of his delicate instrument. His sweet and ominous music followed me down the crooked cobblestone paths as I made my way to work that day.

Since then, I have repeatedly sighted him throughout North Beach and Chinatown. He always performs the same song in the same strange manner. It appears to be the only tune in his repertoire. The melody has become so embedded upon my psyche that it now serves as the de facto soundtrack for my walks through the city.

A few days ago, I caught yet another glimpse of the erhu-playing man. This time, he was performing a couple yards away from a scraggly and comatose guy doubled-up on the ground adjacent to a bus shelter. Next to the unconscious fellow was a paper coffee cup containing a scant number of dirty coins and a weakly scrawled sign pleading for a handout. Directly above him stood a billboard that read: Is your business due for termination? The ad was paid for by an organization calling itself Nevada Rescue. It displayed a photo of a middle-aged white man’s beleaguered face, covered in bruises. The billboard was referring to the recent downturn in the SF economy, encouraging the soon-to-be-disenfranchised to “jump ship” and join the burgeoning labor camps of Nevada. I asked the musician if he could play me a different tune. He smiled without reply.

Читать дальше →