Why New Orleans Matters #4

And so, it is finished.  The end of Why New Orleans Matters sort of grinds to a halt with a sigh and a sputter, albeit a sparkly one (if that's even possible).  I believe that Piazza means everything he says, but there's only so many times he can say it without sounding like a broken record submerged in swamp water.  The ending was sweet, giving us one more resounding chorus of praise heaped upon the city of New Orleans, reasons upon reasons of why it needs to keep exisitng and what it will do for genreations to come.  Needless to say, the conclusion dragged on for much too long, as my fellow book club members agree.  We discussed it, and, as guilty as we felt, we all agreed that we are not confident that Piazza achieved what he wanted to in writing this book.  We certainly know the names of a lot of restaurants we'd like to visit, and everyone now wants a New Orleans funeral after their demise, but we are not sure if we feel for the city.  I suppose in order to feel what Piazza feels, one would have to be a denizen of the city itself, to be able to relate to what he talks about.  For those of us who aren't it is a lovely book/travel guide, complete with some touching stories, which tells us just enough about the city to make us consider visiting someday to see what all the fuss is about.
Before reading this book, I myslef knew a bit about New Orleans culture and art, having grown up listening to creole and zydeco music, and famous artisits such as Dr. John and Muddy Water.  So I know a bit about what New Orleans has to offer.  But for those who are entirely unfamiliar, this book is merely a collection of pretty imagery and foreign-sounding names and words.  Piazza presents a heartfelt snapshot of life, what it used to be, and what it could be again for him and his fellow New Orleanians.  And us unfamiliar readers feel like guests at a party where the host has invited a close circle of friends and shares numerous inside jokes with them, so much so that we consider taking our seven-layer dip and eating on the porch by ourselves.
I sound like a bitch in this post.  But I feel slightly comforted that my fellow book clubbers feel similarly.  Nice book; weak statement.