Category: art

PDA. We see it, we shun it and we love it.  Therefore, we do it.  On the N train, at the supermarket, behind those big rocks at Central Park… and even in the family bathrooms of FAO Schwarz?  There is just something about PDA, especially PDA in New York City, which makes it so scandalous and so enticing. New York City is the melting pot of PDA.

PDA- Public Display of Affection.  Acts of affection include- kissing, touching, groping, nuzzling, cuddling, licking- all done in public.  But in The Colossus of New York Colson Whitehead says it best as he describes two people sitting on a bench on the Brooklyn Bridge, “As they sit there listlessly gazing, none suspect his palm cups her ass beneath denim.”  In this sentence Colson almost gets the formula of PDA correct.  Apparent couple: check. Groping: check. Public area: check.  Trying to be private in a public area while engaging in PDA? Not quite.

The Brooklyn Bridge is amorous.  Therefore, it is understandable writing and cinema are attracted to it. Movies occasionally show couples in love walking across it, cheesy boyfriends proposing on a bench and even melodramatic scenes of people reuniting in the middle of the bridge.  Whitehead though manages to craft a sentence that captures a brief moment.  In the context of the paragraph “they” are sitting on a bench.  It is noticeable that he does not use “a couple” or “a man and a woman”, instead he places “they” at the very beginning, as if to say that he and the rest of us are already familiar with them.  “Listlessly gazing” is an interesting pair of words.  Whitehead sets us up for a contrast by separating this phrase with a comma.  To Whitehead and to everyone else “they” appear to be casually enjoying the scenery around them.  What happens next is Whitehead poses as this all- knowing force and claims that “none suspect that his hand cups her ass”.  Whitehead is being devious by making the assumption that there is an undercover act of PDA occurring.  He does not know anymore than his readers do and thus makes himself part of the “none”.  Whitehead gives “they” their little bit of decency by stating that “he” is touching her beneath denim; mitigating the vulgarity of “grabbing”.  There is obvious damage control amongst the words; making it a special talent of Whitehead’s to juxtapose the contradicting aspects of PDA.

Whitehead either deliberately or unconsciously establishes the paradoxical habit of PDA.  It comes down to how private is public and how public is private battling it out- in public.  The line between public and private is pretty blurred and thus we are sometimes not aware of crossing it.  But Whitehead manages to purge the fine lines of their faults and mesh the two in one.  In his defense Colson uses no other weapon, but Central Park.  Central Park, next to Battery Park houses the most instances of PDA.  It really is no surprise.  In fact Central Park defines it.  It is so big and in the heart of New York that it puts the public in PDA.  On the contrary, its enormous trees and vast foliage that one could hide in make it inviting for those intimate moments.  More crude than our Brooklyn Bridge couple, Colson writes, “Oh. Some kids recently fucked in this spot under the eyes of those in the penthouse apartments.”  Were the “kids” aware that half of the Plaza Hotel was staring at them? Yes and No.  The “eyes” are from Whitehead’s point though.  The Brooklyn Bridge couple and the Central Park couple are synonymous; no line exists for them.  They disregard the “eyes” for the thrill and for the fix of PDA.

PDA acquires this beautiful and perplexing dual nature that Whitehead captures in his own voice as a writer and within his observations.  To what extent is a physical display of your emotions objective/subjective?  That depends on your upbringing, culture, pre-existing notions and even on your experiences.  You are disgusted in it, but you cannot seem to take your eyes off of it and secretly wish you were sharing a passionate kiss under the shade of some tree in Bryant Park.  Same goes for Colson’s “eyes” that use binoculars, captivated by this moment of lust or maybe instance of love in Central Park.  Whitehead himself takes a personal jab at public expression.  “Don’t go too far, kids, these are areas used for anonymous sex. Let’s have anonymous sex.”  While Whitehead attempts to objectify sex in public by breaking it down to its very basic form of anonymity, he adds his own subjective touch- a derisive comment on the prospect of having anonymous sex.  The opinions surrounding kissing and groping out in public can never really be objective.  Maybe we do not feel as much as the doers of PDA are showing, but we definitely feel something towards it.

Our couple on the Brooklyn Bridge (if “they” are even a couple) is as anonymous as the anonymous sex in Central Park.  Yet, the omniscient Whitehead somehow knows that they are indulging in a case of incognito PDA.  Their age, race, social status are all unknown to us.  Does it make it any less gross if they were elderly?  Any more socially acceptable if they were young college students?  Who knows.  Regardless, of where we are and who we are with, if we are holding hands or if we are kissing, we love to publicly expose our inner physical and emotional desires.  There is no way of putting a stop to PDA.  It infiltrates our systems, our relationships and our society.