It is a decade since Olivia Laing published The Lonely City, a blend of memoir and cultural analysis on the isolation of urban living. Laing – who is non-binary – had moved to Manhattan following a love affair that ended abruptly. Once there, they were taken aback at their feelings of isolation. Laing discovered “you can be lonely anywhere, but there is a particular flavour to the loneliness that comes from living in a city, surrounded by millions of people”.
The author’s attempts to navigate these difficult feelings are threaded through a series of artist portraits examining the connection between loneliness and creativity. There is Edward Hopper, famed for his paintings featuring lone figures seated in cafes and diners, and Henry Darger, the janitor and hospital worker who lived alone and achieved posthumous fame through his disturbing and hallucinatory paintings of misfits. Laing also ponders the work of Andy Warhol, who surrounded himself with people while still keeping them at arm’s length, and David Wojnarowicz, the American artist and photographer who documented the devastation caused by the Aids virus. His work, Laing notes, “did more than anything to release me from the burden of feeling that in my solitude I was shamefully alone”.
