by Nathalie Rothschild
It
was the stuff of disaster movies: fire fighters travelling down
14th Street in inflatable boats; the facade of a Chelsea building blown out,
exposing the interiors of tastefully decorated apartments; a power station explosion lighting
up the New York sky; cranes dangling precariously off
skyscrapers; floods causing the downtown Canal and Water Streets to
live up to their names; Lady Liberty going dark and
the lights of Manhattan switching off one by one until the Empire State was one
of the few buildings still shining bright on the greatest skyline on Earth.
Following Hurricane Sandy’s pounding of the US East
Coast from afar, eyes glued to my hyperactive Twitter feed where these
astonishing images from New York City were doing the rounds, the thought of how
limited the damage was in proportion to the strength of the storm was humbling.
Yes, it might sound soppy, but it’s worth reminding
ourselves just how much gumption it takes to build and run a city that is
largely able to withstand such relentless forces of nature as the Sandy
superstorm. It’s pretty awesome, as Americans would say.
But on Twitter, the steady stream of blurry Instagram
pictures and testimonies to individuals’ heroic efforts - such as the nurses
who evacuated babies down nine flights of stairs in the dark - were
interspersed with admonitions of human arrogance. We have ourselves to blame
for nature’s havoc-wrecking, some suggested, and we are powerless in the face
of nature’s wrath.
Doesn’t that seem paradoxical?