Greenwich Village, known as “the village”, invokes a certain image of a bohemian quarter, as it was for the first half of the 20th century. The home of the beat generation literary movement, a common stomping ground for the innovative musicians and songwriters of the midcentury, the village carries an image of a counterculture paradise. These days, the streets of the village are far different. The gentrification process which has swept much of New York City has been alternately applauded and condemned.
No more in the village do you find the starving artists and aspiring musicians. They simply can’t afford it. Still, many who live there as well as the tourists appreciate the gentrification and feel the streets have become cleaner and safer. For the tourist, there are still the landmarks to be seen, the relics of the old days of bohemia. The poets may not roam the streets, but the streets still proclaim the place of past glory. The commercialization of the village partly washes out and partly preserves the famous artists of past times, while the artists of the present day have moved on, to cheaper areas. Perhaps in fifty years, these areas will be inhabited by the affluent and brag of past artistic glories. The village may have changed a great deal in recent decades, and the artistic soul should perhaps look elsewhere for kindred spirits. Still, the process is ongoing and the spirit the village supposedly possessed is probably not in the streets themselves but in those artists that passed through, long ago.
