In 2019, street artist Banksy displayed an artwork in the jewellery quarter of the British city, Birmingham. Some reporters, at the time, suggested that a homeless person, Ryan, came along with Banksy; that Ryan was an actor and his presence was part of Banksy’s ‘performance art’. Perhaps that says more about the blinkered view of those reporting, who cannot or refuse to believe their eyes when talking about explicit homelessness during ‘the holidays’. What’s more likely is that Ryan stumbled upon the mural whilst it was still a work-in-progress, and he took a seat on the bench beside it. (Whoever captured this image, happened to do so while he rested.)
The image, above, is bittersweet in that, for a brief moment, we can believe that the reindeer will ‘spirit’ any person, seated, away to somewhere else; away from the predicament they’re in. Maybe that’s why the artwork works so well: it’s interactive, and it’s humanising; any one of us, by a twist of fate, could be in Ryan’s position.
I’ve included the song, ‘Home’ by Passenger, in this post, partly as its lyrics are, to me, a counterpart to Bansky’s artwork. And partly, as my novel centres around an inclusive inner-city osteria; its proprietors and their colleagues; the food they create and share; their efforts to engage with people in the community in which they live and work, some of whom happen to be without a home. As Laurie Colwin wrote, succinctly, in 1987, it is, “becoming increasingly clear that many of our fellow citizens are going hungry in the streets of our richest cities. It is impossible to write about food and not think about that.” ‘Home’, and the sentiment of Colwin’s words, helped me to write those scenes; to people them with characters who demonstrate dignity, compassion, and empathy. It is my hope that these are three traits we can all emphasise during this “season of goodwill”, and continue to do so, when ‘the holidays’ come to a close.
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