A Paradise Built in Hell; A Book Review

I've had a lot more time during quarantine for reading, but the stuff that I usually read, such as memoirs by GirlBosses, books about the sex I was definitely not having, and mountains I was not going to be climbing anytime soon, just wasn’t cutting it anymore. It was depressing, to say the least, and the last thing I wanted to do was spend another minute in my apartment lying down on the couch reading, which only differed from the other 1439 minutes in the day in that it was a page and not a screen in front of me.

A Paradise Built in Hell was recommended to me by a friend who actually gave me one of her other books, Infinite City, which is about San Francisco. I'm not going to lie and say I've read that one yet, but I'll get around to it, eventually. I finally picked up this book a couple of months into quarantine because I was desperate to break up the monotony, and I was not disappointed. This book was incredibly thoughtful, insightful, and despite the title, a shining light of hope and optimism in this time.

Going through some of the biggest disasters in recent cultural memory such as Hurricane Katrina, 9/11, the San Francisco earthquake and more, Solnit weaves a compelling argument that in times of crisis, rather than descending into chaos, looting and violence like many movies would like us to believe, people instead rallied around each other and fiercely supported their communities. People created systems that quickly and efficiently worked to support everyone they touched, and rather than descend into chaos, people found meaning and purpose in their lives, sometimes for the first time.

One of the most memorable news stories at the beginning of coronavirus were stories of stampedes and fights breaking out to get toilet paper, and long lines around the block to get beans and pasta. Everyone was terrified of the unknown, and wanted to be prepared for the worst possible outcome. But what was less reported about was people reaching out to the vulnerable in their communities. I've lived in my apartment for a year but didn't know a single one of my neighbors. Now, all of us were sharing numbers and resources; people taped notes above the mailboxes listing what supplies they had, and sharing them freely with everyone around them. At street corners, people handed out cloth masks that they had made themselves, and it was beautiful.

As a society, we fall into the trap of Darwinian anthropology, which assumes that we all live in a world that dictates the survival of the fittest, and that if you fall behind, you're going to die. We're obsessed and terrified of the idea that if we make one mistake, we'll get swallowed up by opportunistic and bloodthirsty , and therefore, an act of kindness on our part is a show of weakness that is guaranteed to be taken advantage of.

But this book proves the opposite, that in times of crisis people will come together to help one another out. During the San Francisco earthquake, for example, people gathered in golden gate park with what little they had been able to escape with, and established highly-organized soup kitchens that also became meeting points and centers for communicating news. During hurricane Katrina, locals who had access to boats didn't use them to loot empty houses, but instead spent days and even weeks searching for survivors who were stranded on rooftops, or in tree tops that were above water. People were radical in their dedication to care for their neighbors and their broader community, and time and time again there is evidence that people willingly share what little they may have left in a time of crisis with those around them.

The flip side of that is obviously that criss often subverts or overturns the minority of those in power, who benefit from the status quo. There is a panic when the system that has kept them at the top disappears, and often they will use military or police power to try and enforce a semblance of authority over a community that no longer needs them. Solnit argues that it is these people who actually perpetuate and cause the most violence in disaster, as they try and restore 'order,' a euphemism for their elitist power structures.

This book was insightful as a way to understand what is happening in our country right now as we wrestle with two different pandemics, both of which are hurting the most vulnerable the hardest. While it is slow, there's a slow and steady rise of the majority against the minority, of seeing that those in power do not exist to keep us safe, to protect us or care for us, but rather to keep us low, and keep us isolated.

Even as we shelter in our homes, we are galvanized to be more aware of, and more protective of, our neighbors. Many have measured the risks of large gathering and have decided that protesting and showing up for Black people is worth the risk, that standing up against the corrupt in power is worth the possibility of losing what little we have.

Hell is what we go through to find positive and effective change. It is only through fighting tooth and nail, with blood and tears, do we create paradise. It is through disaster that we build nirvana, hitting bottom can be a great starting place.