Bad behavior

The modest Georgian-style Independence Hall, built in 1753. Photo: National Park Service.
The modest Georgian-style Independence Hall, built in 1753. Photo: National Park Service.

Every year around this time I try to honor the season by unsuccessfully pestering my wife and children to watch 1776 with me (they can’t be blamed for my failure, I suppose; all that prancing around to ersatz Gilbert and Sullivan, in the guise of a history lesson no less, brings even the most forgiving audience crying to its knees) and reading something that pertains to the historical significance of the moment. I’m about halfway through The Pursuit of Happiness: How Classical Writers on Virtue Inspired the Lives of the Founders and Defined America by Jeffrey Rosen, a constitutional lawyer and the president of Philadelphia’s National Constitution Center, a book that I plan to unsuccessfully pester my wife and children to read.

The subtitle is well-descriptive of the book, which studies the role that classical virtues of Greek and Roman philosophers played in the education, thinking, and actions of the Founders — virtues such as order, temperance, humility, industry, frugality, sincerity, resolution, moderation, tranquility, cleanliness, justice, and silence. Many of the Founders, like Jefferson, Franklin, and Adams, repeatedly cited these virtues and especially Cicero in their writings and thinking, and they wormed their way into the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution as well. Although they held themselves to these high standards, the Founders frequently usually failed to meet those standards (their failure was most spectacularly miserable when it came to slavery), but it was the attempt to better themselves — to pursue “happiness” as it was defined during the Enlightenment, rather than the “happiness” as it’s defined in these more hedonistic days — that provided them with insights into democracy and republicanism.

As I say, I’m about midway through and am loathe to say more about it before I’m finished, but it did cater to my curiosity about the role that architecture and physical surroundings play in the way we think about ourselves and our world. In the early and mid eighteenth century, Philadelphia’s architects embraced the Georgian style of order, proportion, and restraint: even today, the buildings around Independence Mall in Philadelphia remain experienced on a human scale, and the orderly, practical rowhouses and trinities of Olde City and Elfreth’s Alley too seem appropriate to a cozy comfortability.

These were the buildings that the Founders lived and worked in and ate and drank at as they debated the foundational documents of the United States. Even today we can walk in their footsteps and admire the same Georgian order, proportion, and restraint. Alas, the style was not to last — architects around the turn of the century embraced the Federal and Greek Revival styles that led to buildings like the First Bank of the United States a few blocks away from Independence Hall. It appeared as if they were trying to live up to Philadelphia’s reputation as the “Athens of America,” and they were going to have the buildings to prove it, goddammit.

Twilight of the gods? The Greek Revival First Bank of the United States in Philadelphia, built in 1797. Photo: National Park Service.

Although it’s a bit of a left-field stretch, there’s another sense in which The Pursuit of Happiness is relevant to today’s Philadelphia. Rob McElhenney’s comedy It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia is in many ways Pursuit‘s counter-text. Instead of cultivating the classical virtues of order, temperance, humility, industry, frugality, sincerity, resolution, moderation, tranquility, cleanliness, justice, and silence, the reprobates who frequent Paddy’s Pub in South Philadelphia cultivate the classical vices of disorder, crapulence, narcissism, sloth, extravagance, perfidy, half-heartedness, extremism, chaos, filth, bigotry, and noise. This provides a fertile ground for the show’s frequent satiric forays into politics and culture: Mac, Charlie, Frank, Dennis, and Sweet Dee confront issues like abortion, racism, sexual identity, drug addiction, urban blight, gun control, the MeToo movement, political corruption, and welfare by indulging in these vices without apology, self-control, or self-knowledge, often destroying property and the lives of innocents in the process.

I’m not sure that IASIP can really bear all the weight that I’m putting on it — the show is a gross-out comedy first and foremost, after all. But the show depicts what happens to people and politics when the classical virtues are ignored and the irrational id instead of reason is given free rein to trample over the rights of others. While the show’s setting in Philadelphia is in part an accident of chance — McElhenney is a Philadelphia native, and the show’s B-roll of Philadelphia locations is affectionate and lovingly knowledgeable — the gang traipses through the same streets as the Founders, an unintended comment on just how far we’ve fallen in the 248 years that have separated them. (McElhenney and his wife Kaitlin Olson, who plays Sweet Dee in IASIP, have in fact opened and occasionally visit Mac’s Tavern, a bar in Philadelphia at 226 Market Street, mere blocks from Independence Mall and mere steps from Benjamin Franklin’s eighteenth-century home.) But if you want to see how we started, read The Pursuit of Happiness; to see where we ended up, watch It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia.

Both Rosen’s book and McElhenney’s show deserve more words than I’ve given them here. But my menu for tomorrow is set: A few chapters of The Pursuit of Happiness as an appetizer; 1776 as the main dish; and a few episodes of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia as a dessert. Although I won’t be in Philly for the holiday, my wife and I will be spending a few days there in Olde City next week, on something of a recon mission for a potential relocation. Although my kids wouldn’t stand for tomorrow’s meal, they both love Philadelphia. Go figure.

However you celebrate Independence Day and America’s 248th birthday tomorrow, I hope you make it a good one.

Philadelphia : Vienna

The Karl Marx-Hof public housing complex in Vienna. Photo: Jake Blumgart.

I rarely have an opportunity to mention Philadelphia and Vienna in the same breath — I’ve had my say about Vienna at my other journal — but the Philadelphia Inquirer yesterday noted that, at least in one sense, both cities are on the same wavelength.

The Inquirer‘s Jake Blumgart interviewed Philadelphia City Council Member Jamie Gauthier about her journey to Vienna on a little investigatory tour of Austria’s public housing efforts. While both Vienna and Philadelphia face challenges in the effort to provide affordable housing for their citizens, Vienna seems to provide a few useful lessons on its implementation. The key to its success is Vienna’s use of city-owned vacant land and its partnerships with private developers and non-profit actors. Says Blumgart:

Vienna’s historic commitment to housing compounds on itself. The city government’s huge and long-standing ownership and subsidy of affordable units means it is known as a reliable and transparent actor. That makes private-sector actors comfortable helping to fund the projects. …

No American city is in a position like Vienna where the local government controls, or at least has a stake in, the ownership and construction of homes where a majority of the population lives. But … Philadelphia’s large amount of vacant land, combined with innovative funding policies, could begin to make a difference.

I live in New York currently; here the phrase “affordable housing” is an oxymoron, and New York is not lacking for morons. But there appears to be more than one reason that both Vienna and Philadelphia are considered highly livable cities, not least when it comes to housing for the less fortunate in Vienna.

You can read Blumgart’s article here, assuming you haven’t run out of free articles, as the saying goes.

 

On newsstands now

The uniformed representative of the United States Postal Service just dropped the July 2024 issue of Philadelphia magazine into my mailbox, and I recommend you hie down to your local newsdealer to pick up a copy. I found it wonderfully readable; so did the American Society of Magazine Editors, which honored Philadelphia with its 2024 National Magazine Award for Lifestyle Journalism, an award that “honors print and digital journalism that celebrates readers’ passions and interests.”

A regional magazine should reflect the character of its region, and the July issue does so again under the editorship of Brian Howard. A report on development at Penn’s Landing describes a corruption wiretap as “amusingly incriminating,” a phrase that in two words encompasses the laconic cynicism of Philly residents towards their government officials, but even better is Philadelphia writer-at-large Jason Sheehan’s article “Looking for Luisa,” which is the funniest thing I’ve read in years. Describing his hunt for a cookbook author who may or may not exist in reality, Sheehan describes one moment of his investigation:

I get one kitchen manager on the phone, and he says this is “the stupidest fucking question” he’s ever been asked, and I’m like, Come on … really? This is Philadelphia, asshole, and if THIS is the stupidest question anyone has ever asked you, then you gotta get out more. I mean, two days ago, one of my neighbors asked me if I thought a cat could survive jumping out of the second-floor window of her townhouse and I said yeah, sure, cats are amazing, and then she said, “But what if it was carrying a whole chicken?,” and that wasn’t even the stupidest question I’d heard THAT DAY.

That breezy combination of absurdity, disbelief, and casual obscenity has always been a part of the style of Philadelphia — both the magazine and the city.

As far as these things are discoverable, Philadelphia is one of the oldest regional magazines in the country, having been established in 1908 by the Trades League of Philadelphia, whatever that was. Since 1946 the magazine has been in the hands of one member of the Lipson family or another and remains locally owned-and-operated. I first started reading Philadelphia in the late 1970s and early 1980s, when D. Herbert Lipson hired Editorial Director Maury Z. Levy, who established the tone of the magazine and came up with some of the magazine’s most popular features, especially the annual “Best of Philly” issue.

This August the magazine is planning a celebration of the 50th anniversary of the “Best of Philly” issues, but those of us with long memories will remember that the feature began as “The Best and Worst of Philly,” a compendium of local, witty snark that rendered these issues collector’s items. Apparently (so I surmise), more practical considerations prevailed and the publisher thought it best not to alienate potential advertisers, so at some point the “Worst” was dropped. It’s still a useful issue, though, and I’m looking forward to this year’s entrant.

Though its 2024 National Magazine Award honored Philadelphia‘s lifestyle journalism, each issue also contains deeply researched stories on the city’s political and cultural life; a recent story on the trials and tribulations of the Kimmel Center was a highlight, and I’m sure somebody over there is working on a University of the Arts story that will dig as deeply as anyone can into its recent closure. Alas, very little of the print magazine has found its way online, but its web site is still essential reading for current and former Philadelphians like myself. So I raise a glass to Philadelphia today; and if you’re nice to me I might send you a scan of that Jason Sheehan article. It’s a riot.