City of God: A Novel of Passion and Wonder in Old New York

City of God: A Novel of Passion and Wonder in Old New York

by Beverly Swerling
City of God: A Novel of Passion and Wonder in Old New York

City of God: A Novel of Passion and Wonder in Old New York

by Beverly Swerling

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Overview

City of God, the latest installment in Beverly Swerling's gripping saga of old New York, takes readers to Manhattan's clamorous streets as the nation struggles to find a compromise between slave and free, but hears the drums of war. This is New York when one synagogue is no longer adequate for thousands of Jewish immigrants, when New Evangelicals rouse complacent Protestants with the promise of born-again salvation, and when it first sees Catholic nuns and calls them whores of Satan. It is New York when ships bring the fabulous wealth of nations to its wharves and auction houses, while a short distance away rival gangs fight to the death with broken bottles and teeth filed to points.

Into this churning cauldron comes young Dr. Nicholas Turner. Nick knows that the discoveries of antisepsis and anesthesia promise medical miracles beyond the dreams of ages. He learns that to make such progress reality he must battle the city's corrupt politics and survive the snake pit that is Bellevue Hospital, all while resisting his love for the beautiful Carolina Devrey, his cousin's wife. Sam Devrey, head of the shipping company that bears his name and a visionary who believes the future will be ushered in by mighty clipper ships spreading acres of sail, battles demons of his own. The life he lives with Carolina in the elegant brownstone on newly fashionable Fifth Avenue is a charade meant to disguise his heart's true home, the secret downtown apartment of the exquisite Mei-hua, his Chinese child-bride. The worlds of all four are imperiled when Sam must rely on Nick's skills to save the woman he loves, and only Nick's honor guards Sam's secret. On a night when promises of hellfire seem to become reality and the city nearly burns to the ground, Carolina and Mei-hua confront the truth of their duplicitous marriages. Rage and revenge join love and passion as driving forces in a story played out against the background of the glittering New York that rises from the ashes, where Delmonico's and the Astor House host bejeweled women and top-hatted men, both with the din of commerce in their ears and the glint of gold in their eyes.

As always, Swerling has conjured a dazzling cast of characters to people her city. Among those seeking born-again salvation are Addie Bellingham, befriended by the widow Manon Turner but willing to betray her, and Lilac Langton, who confesses her sins but avoids mentioning that she's a skilled abortionist in a city that has recently made abortion a crime. Ben Klein, a brilliant young physician, must balance devotion to his mentor and dedication to research with duty to the Jewish community. Wilbur Randolf, Carolina's father, indulges her in everything but fails her when she needs him most. Jenny Worthington, Wilbur's longtime mistress, is driven by avarice to make common cause with Fearless Flannagan, a member of a New York police force as corrupt as the city it serves. Ah Chee, Mei-hua's devoted servant, struggles through Manhattan's streets on bound feet and burns incense to the kitchen god in this place of foreign devils. They are all here, heroines and saints, villains and victims, and a vanished New York made to live again in an intricate tale of old debts and new rivalries.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9781416549222
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Publication date: 09/01/2009
Pages: 544
Product dimensions: 5.20(w) x 8.04(h) x 1.19(d)

About the Author

Beverly Swerling is a writer, consultant, and amateur historian. She lives in New York City with her husband.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Mei-hua lay curled next to him in the glow that followed love, her back against his chest, his arm around her waist, their breathing synchronized. Everything was perfect. Or so it seemed to Samuel Devrey.

After a time she moved just enough so one foot caressed his calf. The silken wrappings of her golden lily, the foot that had been first bound when she was three — excruciating pain inflicted and endured for him, indeed at his behest — were exquisitely erotic. Sam felt the sap rise in him yet again but he resisted. "There isn't time." He breathed the words into the jasmine scent of her hair.

His Mandarin could be understood, but it had been learned too late to be perfect. His tones were never exactly right. He spoke always the speech of the yang gwei zih, the foreign devil. Mei-hua would die a slow death before she would correct him. "My lord not need do much. Quick and easy. See."

She arched profoundly, one of those supple adjustments of her body that always astonished him, and her hips realigned so that he could take her effortlessly, in an act of possession as natural and undemanding as a whisper. It would have been against nature to refuse a generosity offered with such elegance. He moved the hand that had stroked her belly so it gripped her thigh, pressing her more closely to him. Both golden lilies were touching him now, wrapped around his legs. She was a silken splendid butterfly, tiny but exquisite, cocooned in his bulk. Her sigh of pleasure — more a vibration than a sound — thrilled him as if it were again the first time, three years earlier, when she was thirteen.

"You are astonishing," he said when he could speak.

She gently pulled away, then settled back against his body and pulled his hand back to her belly where it had been before. "What do you feel, lord?"

"Samuel," he corrected. "If I have to tell you again, I will spank you." Her smile was hidden from him, but he knew it was there. "For real this time." He attempted to sound severe. "You won't be able to sit for a week."

"I am sure I will deserve it. You are right in all things, lo — Samuel. But you cannot spank me now."

"Why not?"

"It maybe..." He heard the hesitation though she hurried to cover it. "Maybe disturb harmony. Your tai-tai never lose harmony. Never."

Repetition was the way the Chinese conveyed emphasis. Tai-tai meant not simply wife but senior wife, she to whom all other wives — if such there might be — owed allegiance. Devrey knew both things, but he seldom remembered to repeat a word he meant to strengthen. As for the rest, it wasn't practical.

He had married Mei-hua in the room beyond this one, in a ceremony he remembered as a bewildering shimmer of gongs and incense. Afterward she had been brought to this bed on its raised red satin platform hung about with quilted red velvet to perform her first duty as his wife, to sit absolutely still for hours and demonstrate her inner harmony. Meanwhile Devrey had been taken downstairs to eat and drink, and only occasionally remind himself that if he stepped out the door he would be not in this exotic Chinese world but on Cherry Street in New York, a few steps from the busy waterfront. Four hours later, when he had returned to the bedroom to claim what was his, Meihua was exactly as he'd left her. Except for her smile of joyous welcome.

"You could never be disharmonious," he said now.

His voice was steady, the words without any hint of anger or disapproval, but she could feel his fury in the heat of his skin and the coldness of his breath. "I try never displease you, lord." Not true. She had tried very hard. For many months now, as soon as he left her after lovemaking, she lay for long, boring hours with her feet above her head so his seed would find the son-making place deep inside. She had eaten only son-making food, though it was not always her favorite. Only the gods knew how hard she tried. And Ah Chee.

Mei-hua could not see the bedroom door from her present position, but she knew beyond doubt that her servant was near, probably listening. "I do nothing to displease my lord. Never. Never." Big lie, but never mind.

"Samuel," he corrected again, delivering at the same time one slap to her buttocks. Light enough to be playful but hard enough to sting.

Mei-hua stiffened and rolled away, clasping both hands below her waist as she did so. "Husband is correct. I deserve beating." She jumped off the bed, got the bamboo stick they used to close the red velvet curtains, and brought it to him, kneeling on the platform and leaning her head on her folded arms on the mattress. "I stay like this and husband beat back and shoulders until they bleed, only no part below waist. Then I will never — "

"I have never beaten you, Mei-hua. Why would I start now? Above or below the waist." He got up and put the stick back by the window, then drew her to her feet, kissing her face all the while, little soft kisses.

"Because husband is displeased with me."

"No, I am not. I understand you." The silk robe, the long lung pao he'd worn earlier, lay on a nearby chair, splendid green satin with dragons embroidered in silver thread. Samuel passed it by in favor of his western clothes, carefully hung in an elaborately carved wardrobe. He pulled on the tight black trousers and black boots and high-necked white shirt and tied his stock. "I must go."

"It is early. Useless old Ah Chee made soup you like, with duck and pumpkin."

"Perhaps tomorrow. You rest now." He picked up her pale yellow silk robe and draped it over her shoulders, lifting her back into the bed as he did so. "Sleep, Mei-hua. Stay beautiful for me."

The room beyond was as exotic and foreign as the bedroom, if not as sensuous. The furnishings — rosewood, ebony, ornaments of luminous porcelain and glowing brass — had all arrived from Canton when Meihua did, part of her dowry, along with the servant woman.

Ah Chee's skin was creased leather and her hair white, but she seemed to Samuel ageless. She stood by the front door, eyes cast down, hands folded, ready to usher him out. Hard to say if she knew he was leaving by the way he was dressed or if, as he suspected, she listened regularly to everything that happened in the bedroom. "My lord stay a little stay," she urged. "Maybe take some of this old woman's poor soup. Stay."

Samuel walked straight to her and slapped her hard across the face. She did not move, seemed barely even to flinch. He slapped her a second time. He knew she wouldn't react, but it calmed some of the rage in his belly. "When did tai-tai bleed last?" And when she didn't answer, "Tell me. If you lie, I swear I will cut out your tongue."

"In Last month, lord. Before start of Water Sheep year."

He did the calculation quickly. Last month was January, and this year, 1834, was Water Sheep. "When did she stop taking the special drink?" He bought the powder himself from a Mrs. Langton on Christopher Street. Guaranteed to prevent conception as long as a woman drank it dissolved in ale every morning before sunrise.

"Never, lord. Never. Never. Every day I wake up tai-tai and she drink." Ah Chee did not say that the girl hated the taste of ale with a rare passion, and spat it out almost as soon as the mixture touched her mouth. Anyway, the powder was probably useless. What did a yang gwei zih woman know of such things? Ah Chee, whose job it had been to look after this plum blossom since the day she was born, got make-no-baby powder from Hor Jick the apothecary — the closest thing to a proper doctor, a yi, in this place — and sprinkled it on the girl's food, and twice a day rubbed excellent lizard skin cream on Mei-hua's beautiful flat belly. Until, that is, she had judged the plum blossom to be ready and stopped sprinkling and rubbing. "Never, lord, never," she repeated. "Tai-tai drink every day."

"Still? Even after she missed two monthlies?"

"Yes, lord, yes. Drink. Drink."

"You are a lying old witch." He itched to slap her again but knew it would make no difference.

Mei-hua, her ear pressed to the door, heard the latch click, signaling Samuel's departure. She ran from the bedroom in a whirl of yellow silk and flung herself at Ah Chee, fists flying, pounding out her rage. "You tell. You tell. Old woman say I do not bleed already two months. You tell."

Ah Chee stood calmly under the onslaught. Eventually Mei-hua's anger turned to misery, and she retreated to huddle, weeping, in the elaborately carved red-lacquered throne chair, usually reserved for her husband, under the scroll depicting Fu Xing, the god of happiness, whose benign smile did not alter whatever happened in this room.

For once the old woman did not rush to dry the girl's tears. "You think Lord Samuel stupid? Soon tai-tai's flat little girl belly get big and round. Will the lord not see? Will he think tai-tai swallowed a melon?"

Such considerations were for the future. Mei-hua was concerned only with this terrible moment. "Now my lord will make you take me to the wretched Hor Jick devil yi, and he put filthy devil yi hands on me and make son jump out of belly and — "

"No, not happen. Not. No devil doctor Hor Taste Bad," Ah Chee said, using the nickname by which the apothecary was generally known.

Mei-hua stopped weeping and looked up. "Why you think this? Why?"

"Know definitely for sure. No Taste Bad. Absolutely." Ah Chee did not wait to answer more questions. Instead she went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of hot soup. "Tai-tai open mouth. I feed son."

"Wait — "

Ah Chee did not wait. She spooned soup into the girl's open mouth. It was so hot that it scalded Mei-hua's throat, but she swallowed it quickly, turning her head aside so Ah Chee could not immediately force a second spoonful on her. "Wait, old woman. Wait. First tell why you are sure Lord Samuel not make you take tai-tai to Taste Bad devil yi."

"Because Taste Bad devil yi one of us, civilized person. Lord Samuel take tai-tai himself to white yang gwei zih. Make sure abortion done properly."

Mei-hua gasped in horror, and Ah Chee took the opportunity to spoon more hot soup down her throat.

Cherry Street ran parallel to the East River, two streets back from the docks, a little above the mercantile southern heart of the city. Though George Washington had lived briefly in a house on Cherry when he was president — Martha complained that the ceilings were too low for the feathers in the ladies' hats — the area was not the same. The wealthy had been fleeing the tumult of the lower town of late, deserting even their grand residences on Broadway and around Battery Park for the quiet of the numbered streets and avenues further up the island. These days, the grid adopted in 1809, a tight mesh of interlocking streets and avenues laid out across every inch of a Manhattan of hills and woods and streams, was closer to reality; it had been implemented from TenthStreet to Fourteenth and from First to Eighth avenues. The grid's virtue was that it allowed the greatest possible number of people to be housed on the island. It was a vision made inevitable because another had been realized.

Opened in 1827, the Erie Canal ran from Lake Erie in the west to the Hudson River in the east, establishing a direct water route to New York's magnificent harbor from the outer edge of the ever-expanding nation. There were twenty-four united states now, with Missouri the westernmost, and the far-flung territories of Michigan, Arkansas, and Florida bidding to join soon. The Erie Canal allowed the great city to open her mighty maw and swallow everything the industrious folk living so distant from the coast could produce, then spew it forth across the ocean. Such an increase of business was a racketing, riotous dream come true for the money men who had always ruled this town, but not one their wives wished to have clattering day and night outside their front doors. Uppertendom high society called themselves as they migrated north to the numbered streets above Bleecker. Cherry Street was no part of uppertendom's world.

A bitter wind blew off the river when Sam Devrey came into the street. Snow was coming down in earnest, and already the ragged roof line of the closely packed three- and four-story wooden houses was edged with a thick white border. The two buildings closest to the intersection of Cherry and Market Streets, numbers thirty-seven and thirty-nine, belonged to him personally, not to Devrey Shipping. Both were built of wood. Thirty-seven was three stories high, thirty-nine four, and each was three windows wide. Once private homes, they were now lodging houses like the others on the block, densely packed with laborers who paid fifty cents a week for whatever bit of floor they could claim. Devrey's lodgings were even more tightly packed than the others. His tenants were Chinese, willing to tolerate any degree of crowding to be with their own kind. Mostly they were sailors who had accidentally washed ashore, and mostly from one or another part of Canton, because that was the point on the globe where Asia touched the West. The single exception to the allocation of space was that Mei-hua and Ah Chee occupied the entire upper floor of the corner house, number thirty-nine, an area that would have housed at least twelve of the Chinese men.

None of Samuel's tenants questioned the arrangement, or in any way encroached on the young beauty most had never set eyes on, the supreme first lady tai-tai. As for Ah Chee, they nodded respectfully when she went past, and when sometimes she joined them for a game of cards and a drink of plum brandy, they were inclined to let her win. This despite the fact that except for those two, the tiny Chinese community was without females of any sort. It was but one of the hardships they bore. Another was their inability to look like everyone else in this place. That was not simply a matter of skin color or having almond-shape rather than round eyes. In China, since the coming of the Manchu in 1644, it was the law that every male must shave the front of his head and wear a queue, a long braid down his back. If he cut his queue a man could not return to die in what they called the Middle Kingdom, the land between heaven and earth. He would not be buried with his ancestors. In the matter of making a new life in America, Samuel's tenants considered themselves sojourners, those who had come to stay a little stay (so the expression in their language had it) and to return home. They found what work they could and sent as much money as possible back to relatives in China. In the matter of their attitude towards Devrey, he was a white man who spoke their language, a source of the temporary jobs on which they depended, and he could be counted on to provide rice when times were hard. In this place he need answer to no one.

"You leave now, lord?"

"Yes."

"Lord wait. I get horse."

The man was one of at least four called — in the Chinese fashion, family name first — Lee Yut. A good many were Lee Something else. Sixty-two tenants at this week's count, and pretty much all of them Lees or Hors or Bos, all from little villages where everyone was related and the second and third sons were sent to sea to be cooks and stewards to the officers of the ships in the China trade. Nicknames helped sort out the confusion. This particular Lee Yut was known as Leper Face because his skin was severely pitted by the pox, the scars so close together that in some places his flesh looked to have been eaten away.

Leper Face disappeared into the alley between the two buildings and returned a moment later with Devrey's mare. She snorted softly, pleased to see her master. Samuel patted her muzzle. Leper Face dropped to his knees and extended his clasped hands. Samuel took the leg-up and swung himself into the saddle. Horseback was not the most appealing manner of travel on a cold night like this one, but a private carriage would attract too much attention in these parts. There were a few of the new hansom cabs for hire in the city but no chance of finding one on Cherry Street. An omnibus, a large multiseat vehicle pulled by a team of six horses, ran a few streets to the west, but it was too public, and since it was used almost exclusively by the men of uppertendom traveling back and forth to their businesses, far too convivial.

Devrey adjusted his seat in the saddle, made a small sound in his throat, and the mare set out on the familiar northward journey. After a few seconds he turned and looked back. Leper Face had disappeared and Mei-hua's window was dark. Ah Chee was under strict instructions always to keep the curtains drawn after sunset, but once or twice he had seen a sliver of light and known Mei-hua was up there watching him, already — or so he fancied — counting the minutes until he returned.

Not tonight. All the windows were dark, and there were no gaslights in this neighborhood. Plenty to the south, of course, and recently as far up the town, to use the uppertendom expression, as his own front door on Fourteenth Street.

Copyright © 2008 by MichaelA, Ltd.

Reading Group Guide

This reading group guide includes an introduction, discussion questions, ideas for enhancing your book club, and a Q&A with author Beverly Swerling. The suggested questions are intended to help your reading group find new and interesting angles and topics for your discussion. We hope that these ideas will enrich your conversation and increase your enjoyment of the book.

Introduction



As a deeply divided America struggles to compromise its way out of the terrible question of slave or free and to avoid civil war, waves of immigrants provide vital labor for New York City’s thriving commercial life while unsettling its ruling class. Suddenly Catholics and Jews are no longer tiny minorities, and establishment Protestants must confront fiery Evangelicals who scorn their lack of commitment to biblical truths and bring revival meetings to Broadway. In Beverly Swerling’s City of God the raging currents caused by such upheaval make it possible for a man of prominence—Samuel Devrey—to be married to both an uptown American wife and a downtown Chinese tai-tai, yet manage to keep his two worlds secret from one another. That is, at least until both women prove themselves unwilling to be mere chattel, and a distant cousin—Dr. Nicholas Turner—arrives to head Bellevue hospital and unveils the corruption and betrayal that exist in private and public spheres.





Discussion Questions



1. In the introductory “How it Happened” section, Swerling offers a brief historical overview of the European origins of Evangelicalism, its confrontation with the anti-religious “rationalist” arguments supported by the Enlightenment, and the way in which the Evangelical movement took root in post-Revolutionary America. Did you find this overview helpful to understanding and enjoying the novel or merely a distraction? What do you think of the notion that religion is essentially a matter of personal interpretation? Do you find any merit in the idea of religious leaders, such as bishops and even a pope, acting as upholders and interpreters of doctrine?



2. The story highlights the stirrings of American feminism in the 1800s. Were you surprised to find it so prominent so early? Do you think those first Catholic nuns in New York would have been seen as representing women who believed themselves entitled to more independence? If so, how does that square with their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience? Compare the story’s heroines—Carolina, Mei-Hua, Manon, and Bella—and discuss the different ways in which each can be seen as a woman of strength. To which heroic character did you most relate and why? What of the female villains in the story—Lilac, Jenny, and Addie—did you understand them and their choices? Did any one of the characters who represent women raised in earlier traditions—Ah Chee, Lucy, and Celinda—engage your sympathies? Why?



3. The first time we meet Dr. Nicholas Turner, he is in a hospital tent in Gettysburg right after the battle, and we learn that he treats wounded Confederate and Union soldiers with no regard to their allegiances. Did you find his altruism appealing or annoying? Given Swerling’s reputation for historical accuracy, were you surprised to learn of the role of Walt Whitman? What does a novel like this gain from putting Whitman in those first few pages, though he has no other part in the story? Swerling says such devices are part of the bridge she uses to lead the reader comfortably back to the past. Do you find it helpful to have real characters play cameo roles in historical fiction? Nick Turner, on the other hand, is entirely fictional and a major character in the book. Did meeting him in this role in the prologue enrich the story for you? Did what you know about him from the prologue inform your understanding of how he deals with Dr. Grant, Samuel, Carolina, and Mei-hua? Would you rather have had the book open at chapter one and skip the prologue?



4. Why do you think Samuel insisted on watching Mei-hua’s feet being bound? If it was an exercise in power, was the Chinese river pirate Di Short Neck correct in his belief that Samuel would not want to witness the child’s arch being broken with a heavy stone? What is the connection between power and love in Samuel’s life? Between power and pain? Does the fact that his father was always known as Bastard Devrey play a part in the man Samuel became, or was it simply that he was forced to spend so many formative years in China? What about Samuel’s development in the story? Did he turn out the way you expected him to? Were you satisfied by how his life ended, or saddened by it?



5. What do you think prompted Nick to move from Providence to New York? Were you surprised to learn that then as now New York City was a magnet for people of ambition? In Nick’s case, why was his desire to do medical research more likely to be fulfilled in New York than anywhere else in the country?



6. As we become familiar with different generations throughout the book—especially over the span of Swerling’s entire series—we get a sense of social evolution and progress. Are there characteristics shared across each generation? And what part do you think they play in telling the story of the physical development of the city?



7. Nick moves into town and with the eyes of a newcomer can quickly spot flaws even in the longstanding traditions. At one point, irritated by all the depravity he sees, he questions himself and his cousin: “Are we complicit, Cousin Manon? Does having anything to do with [Bellevue] make us part of what happens here?” How would you answer him? Do you think resigning in protest would have been the more honorable course?



8. Although seen for only a couple of pages, the stigmatic Eileen O’Connor plays a pivotal role in the story. Are you aware of both historical and contemporary claims of the existence of the stigmata? Do you believe that Manon saw Christ’s wounds in the girl’s flesh? If she did not, what could have made her believe she did? Why do you think Swerling chooses such a level-headed, sensible character to have this experience? Does it matter if Manon actually saw the blood or only thought she saw it? Do you think it was this vision that caused her to become a Catholic? And having undergone that conversion, why did she choose to become a nun?



9. There was only one synagogue in New York City for some two hundred years; during two decades in the story that number grows to a hundred. Would such a rapid expansion of their presence in New York help the Jews to be accepted, or would it encourage prejudice? Was the early development of Reform Judaism likely to make the Jews more acceptable to their Christian neighbors? Samson Simpson is a real historical character whose public persona (lawyer, elder of Shearith Israel, philanthropist) is accurately portrayed. What do you think of Swerling’s placing him in her story and having him interact with her characters? Does this make the story more real for you, or is it a distraction?



10. Throughout this story we are made aware that women were expected to be faithful wives, but to accept that their husbands would occasionally stray. Why do you think Carolina reacted so strongly when she discovered Mei-hua’s existence and her role in Samuel’s life? And given her feelings, why didn’t she divorce him? Would she have been able to survive without the support of her father? How do you feel about Samuel’s double life before the fire? Did you change your opinion of him after it? What about the love affair between Nick and Carolina? Do you think Carolina’s newfound financial independence was part of her finally giving in to Nick? Why would that make a difference to her? To him?



11. Do you consider Jenny a murderer, even though she did not technically poison Wilbur? What is your feeling about the activities of the story’s abortionists: the fictional Lilac Langton and the real Madam Restell? Were you surprised by the story of the development of the abortion laws? What does that history say about our present-day conflicts regarding the subject? Do you consider it important that there was at the time no foundling home in all of the city, and no provision for medical care for the poor? Why do you imagine the “moral reformers” who railed against abortion and sponsored the laws did not address the issue of making provision for the pregnant women or the children they bore? What do you think motivated their opposition to the abortionists?



12. Is Sam Devrey a good father? Compare his role in Mei Lin’s life to the one he plays in the lives of Zack and Ceci. What do you think accounts for the difference?



13. In the scene where Carolina and Nick become lovers, “she took his hand and led him to her small and cluttered office, the place in the house where she was most herself.” Why do you think Carolina feels most comfortable in her office? What does this say about her, and does it set her apart from other female characters in the book?



14. Does this book influence your understanding of modern-day New York? The novel touches upon cultural and urban changes—from architecture and urban planning to the social and ethnic background of different areas—and establishes them as part of the living and breathing history of the city. Did this book change the way you look at New York, or any cosmopolitan city, that you know today?



15. Why do you think Nick had such a violent reaction when he learned of Carolina’s involvement with the underground railroad? How does that square with the way he seems to have always understood Carolina’s delight in business?



16. Discuss the choices of the next generation of women in the story. Can you think of any way Mei Lin could have avoided marrying Kurt? What direction would the story have to have taken if she had, for example, run away with Fritz before her marriage to Kurt? What do you think has happened to Ceci as the wife of the owner of a thriving Virginia plantation before and during the Civil War? Is it likely she adjusted? Do you want to know more of her story?



Enhance your Book Club



1. Photocopy a street map of modern-day Manhattan and superimpose on it the locations described in the book: the red brick houses on Fourteenth Street, the cobbled paths of Fifth Avenue, and the crammed houses on Cherry Street. What has changed since then? Bonus points: If you have access to New York City, organize a walking tour of the different areas and compare the buildings you imagine stood then against those you see before your eyes today.



2. Research the history of Bellevue hospital and its inner workings. (There’s lots about that in the first book in this series, City of Dreams.) Pretend that it’s the 1830s and that you are appointed Director, replacing Dr. Tobias Grant. What immediate changes would you call for to improve conditions in the hospital? Take both sides of the debate about germs: given what you know as a person living in the mid 1800s are they a result of the illness or its cause? What would you do about the treatment of the mentally ill?



3. Get hold of a copy of the Olivia de Havilland film Snakepit (1948) and watch it together, remembering that the movie about a woman confined to a state mental hospital was hailed as groundbreaking when it came out—the woman’s only real evidence of mental illness was that she wanted to think for herself—and that it was well known at the time that Bellevue was the model for the hospital. Why do you imagine de Hailland didn’t win the Oscar for her critically acclaimed performance?



4. Find a local medical history museum (such as the National Museum of Health and Medicine in Washington, DC: http://nmhm.washingtondc.museum/ ) and organize a trip. Discuss the developments talked about in the book, such as stethoscopes, ether, amputation flaps, knowledge of germs, and so forth. Do you see any of these in the museum? What other modern-day tools and methods can you name that are directly or indirectly linked to the ones discussed in the book?



5. Find out more details on the New York fire of 1835—a fire that caused the modern-day equivalent of $200 million in damage—and look through photographs and maps. Compare the descriptions of what parts of the city suffered the most damage (pages 208-212) against your map from exercise #1. What challenges kept the fire department from putting out the fire?



A Conversation with the Author - Beverly Swerling



In the introductory Author’s Note, you preface the tale of City of God with a disclaimer: “The development of the theory and technology that in the 1840s led to the building of those breathtaking birds of paradise, the mighty clipper ships, is told as accurately as my research allowed.” Though the novel is a fictional account of that era, there is obvious effort to stay true to history. Was it hard to reconcile the overarching dramatic stories with such a fast-changing history of the time?


In the example you cite, it was not. I simply compressed what happened over five years into two.


Medicine (frequently described in very vivid detail) plays a strong role in the book, often propelling the story forward—so much so that it almost becomes a character itself. Did you cultivate an interest in the technological developments of medicine as you researched for this book, or were you always interested in it? Is medicine central to this time period because advancements in science introduced men to the idea of putting off death and owning their own lives?


The series began in my mind with Bellevue hospital, and as I researched that I began to see how closely related the story of Bellevue is to the story of New York. And because I originally had a barber/surgeon as a founding character, it has been natural to keep the medical and business themes alive. Moreover, it is absolutely fascinating to follow the developments of modern medicine through this period when they exploded in a way that they had not for many hundreds of previous years, and hurled us into this time when we are able to achieve cures that would have seemed literally miraculous to the characters in these stories. In fact, the post-Civil War period is positively astounding in medicine. It will be fun to write about the role of the Turners in those developments.




An important characteristic that sets Nick apart from other characters is that he is at first an outsider and, as such, more cognizant of the fraud happening in the hospital and the dishonesty of people in the city. Why did you make your protagonist an immigrant from Providence? Did you purposefully want to create a new eye with which to gaze at the New York society?


I’m afraid I can’t claim any such prescience. It was the branch of the family I was picking up that determined his coming from Providence. In City of Glory we learn that Andrew’s son lives there. So his grandson had to get from there to New York in a time when people didn’t move as readily as they do today. The internal logic of the stories is very important to me and I believe to my readers. I bend it sometimes when I have to, but then I always hear about it! (Readers can write to me at www.beverlyswerling.com.)





In the book, we can see that even within religious groups, there is a hierarchy. Religion is such a strong force that it becomes a politics of sorts. To this day, discussing religion can oftentimes lead to debate. Are you a religious person? Do you feel that religion should be discussed as freely as any other topic? Or, alternatively, do you feel that so much history is involved in someone’s choice of religion that it is better not to discuss it?


Yes, I do have religious beliefs, and I think it is important to discuss them in some contexts, but I am a fervent believer in the glorious American tradition of the separation of church and state, and I try to have my best characters
my heroines and heroesdefend that view as well.



Both of Sam’s wives, Carolina and Mei-hua, have no mothers or maternal influence of their own to help them acquire knowledge of sexual practices and traditional marital relations. Carolina often laments that fact and it comes up that they both have questions about sex that cannot be answered—though none of the male characters ever voice that same trepidation. Do you feel that that sense of unknowing is a thing of the past? How do you think sex education should be approached when it comes to women?


Women of the period of this story were expected to be exemplars of all “virtue,” whatever their menfolk did or did not do. It is unlikely that Carolina’s mother would have taught her differently had she lived. In the matter of Mei-hua she does have Ah Chee, and because she comes out of a tradition of concubinage we presume she has been taught how to please a man. Moreover, the story strongly implies that she passes that knowledge on to Mei Lin. In neither case, however, does a woman’s own pleasure come into the equation. As for our time, it’s hard to believe in any mystery about sex that applies more to young women then to young men. Just look at such popular television fare as Friends. As for how we should teach sex today, my strongest belief is that we ought to teach responsibility. You must not have kids you’re not ready to raise and provide for, and you shouldn’t engage in any activity without being aware of the complexity of its emotional and moral implications. That’s probably not sex-ed so much as life-ed. And it’s no doubt better taught by parents than by teachers, though certainly there is a role for the latter.




Why did you feel it was important to include boats and advances in water travel in the book? In your opinion, is it part of what allowed New York to evolve so rapidly? Is it a nod toward the constant influx of immigrants?


Both of the above. I am constantly awed by the courage of the immigrants past and present, and left breathless by the imagination and daring of those who envision new ways to solve old problems. Nowhere has that been more a hallmark of development than in New York — making it a greater shame that, for instance, the city has taken so long rebuilding at Ground Zero. I often think the Turners and Devreys would have gotten it done faster and better.




A striking part of the society we encounter in City of God is the role that gossip plays in provoking the characters to act one way or another. Carolina says plainly to William Astor at his father’s funeral, “People say many things, Mr. Astor. Most of them are not particularly important” (page 379). Do you think this applies more to society back then than today?


Good God, no! What else is all our sound-bite TV passing for news, and all our endless talk shows and blogs and celebrity mania if not gossip in more and better and bigger forms than anything they thought of in the nineteenth century!




Have you ever traveled to China to visit Mei-hua and Ah Chee’s homeland? Ever been aboard a sampan? Or, if not, has researching these characters made you want to go?


I’ve never been to China, but I would love to go.




In the final lines of the book, Mei Lin tells Nick: “’We are all, every moment, in the hands of God, Dr. Turner.’” To which he replies, “’So they tell me, Mei Lin. So they tell me’” (page 519). Why did you find it necessary to end on a religious note, in the same way that you began the book? Is it a struggle that will continue to influence the lives of the characters of the series?


Nick is a thoughtful man, as this book shows from
the beginning, a man who gains wisdom during the course of the story. As such he has come to know that there are no certitudes in this life. That he would struggle to believe Mei Lin’s words in the face of the carnage that was the Civil War is hardly surprising. In my view the fact that the answers that religion offers are neither simple nor easy doesn’t make religion less true or less believable. As for ending the story by addressing its underlying theme, all novelists are guilty of wanting to tie up the package. I sometimes think that’s why we write fiction. We can make it tidier than life.




Any chance we’ll follow the Turner and Devrey and Klein heritage all the way to modern times? Do you already imagine offspring of these lineages in the New York of today?


I have plans that would take the series up to the 1920s, but I haven’t thought of anything beyond that.

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