Mongo : Adventures in Trash

Rating:
Summary: A brave new world scribed in neat prose
Review: By the time Ted Botha notes "the civilian dread of the collector who might be a lunatic," about three quarters of the way through MONGO, the reader is no longer a civilian. The reader is helping to open a black garbage bag, waiting to see what is inside. Botha is writing about the people who cause passers-by to quicken their pace or cut a wide berth, those who mine trash if not for survival than for a reason to live. Botha set out to find out what makes them tick, and in doing so has opened up a very surprising world filled with fascinating, intelligent characters who blow away assumptions.

For the most part, Botha's world is New York City. He slips quietly and wide-eyed into each foray into an aspect of collecting but soon peels away aspects of the experience to reveal startling secrets. The author's tour guides live a little differently and are willing to put up with dirt, sludge, sewage and rotting garbage, not to mention the disdain of doormen and other "civilians." There are people who feed a whole commune from garbage cans, who furnish huge spaces, even build with found materials. There are hunters who excavate landfill and come up with relics from the Revolutionary War and the 19th century. There are the preservationists who have saved segments of the city's former grandeur when parking lots and glass buildings have gone up in their place. There are first editions of world classics, jewels and works of art.

Botha writes assuredly, making for a quick-paced but thoughtful book reminiscent of John McPhee's work. He does not impose value judgments or undue insights. Rather, he goes along for the ride and does a fine job of introducing a very wide-ranging social, psychological, economic culture that makes sense. In the end, it is the "respectable" middle and upper classes who have thrown away perfectly good things, in some cases deliberately poisoning them or creating laws to discourage pickers, who leave us scratching our heads.

Rating:
Summary: A brave new world scribed in neat prose
Review: By the time Ted Botha notes "the civilian dread of the collector who might be a lunatic," about three quarters of the way through MONGO, the reader is no longer a civilian. The reader is helping to open a black garbage bag, waiting to see what is inside. Botha is writing about the people who cause passers-by to quicken their pace or cut a wide berth, those who mine trash if not for survival than for a reason to live. Botha set out to find out what makes them tick, and in doing so has opened up a very surprising world filled with fascinating, intelligent characters who blow away assumptions.

For the most part, Botha's world is New York City. He slips quietly and wide-eyed into each foray into an aspect of collecting but soon peels away aspects of the experience to reveal startling secrets. The author's tour guides live a little differently and are willing to put up with dirt, sludge, sewage and rotting garbage, not to mention the disdain of doormen and other "civilians." There are people who feed a whole commune from garbage cans, who furnish huge spaces, even build with found materials. There are hunters who excavate landfill and come up with relics from the Revolutionary War and the 19th century. There are the preservationists who have saved segments of the city's former grandeur when parking lots and glass buildings have gone up in their place. There are first editions of world classics, jewels and works of art.

Botha writes assuredly, making for a quick-paced but thoughtful book reminiscent of John McPhee's work. He does not impose value judgments or undue insights. Rather, he goes along for the ride and does a fine job of introducing a very wide-ranging social, psychological, economic culture that makes sense. In the end, it is the "respectable" middle and upper classes who have thrown away perfectly good things, in some cases deliberately poisoning them or creating laws to discourage pickers, who leave us scratching our heads.

Rating:
Summary: An adventure it is
Review: I truly enjoyed Ted Botha's story of the characters he encountered in search of Mongo,As any dumpster diver knows there are treasures to be found in dumpsters everywhere. Ted Botha does an excellent job of giving us insight into the world of the amazing and gifted people involved in dumpster diving in the streets of New York. The only thing I would have liked to have seen in this book is pictures of some of the incredible things rescued others considered trash. The individual & group efforts that were undertaken on the streets to perserve the wonderful history & culture of New York are incredible. Thank you Ted for showing the world that Dumpster Divers can be intelligent,resourceful,caring, creative & artistic human beings.

Rating:
Summary: Introduces readers to a different type of collector
Review: Journalist Ted Botha introduces readers to a different type of collector: a person who finds his treasures in what is typically considered trash, and gets them for free. 'Mongo' is street slang for anything discarded by one person and picked up by another - and it can be found anywhere. Botha picked up sidewalk furniture when he first moved to New York and bumped into many others doing the same - hence the evolution of Mongo : Adventures In Trash, surveying the world of the 'mongo collector' and the strange objects lost and found in life.


Rating:
Summary: Garbage Lives
Review: Many people collect things, from books to stamps to shoes; it's usually a harmless diversion, perhaps even a social or educational outlet. Collecting garbage, that's something street people do. But that's not nearly the whole story. In _Mongo: Adventures in Trash_ (Bloomsbury), Ted Botha has reported on New York street collectors. "Mongo" is slang that originated in New York in the 1980s for "any discarded object that is retrieved." This decidedly does not mean mere garbage, the worthless rotting ephemera which no one wants. There are plenty of discarded things, however, from books to wood scraps to blocks of buildings, which the person who did the discarding thought were worth zero and which the eventual collector thought had value. And many times, that value is in the thousands. Frequently this is a surprising story of rags literally going to riches. Botha reminds us, "The street collector you see today could well be a bum or a lunatic, that's true enough, but just as easily a millionaire, a schoolteacher, an accountant, a doctor, a housewife." He has contacted all these levels to report on them.

This is a New York story, for a good reason. All mongo collectors of all levels "... agree on one thing: New York can't be beat." The reason is simple: "Great wealth makes great garbage." There is great wealth, true, but also people live very close together, meaning that collectors have to range minimally, and there is frequent turnover of renters. Remarkably, mongo collectors all are breaking the law. In New York City, garbage placed for pickup is no longer anyone's property but the city's. Even official sanitation workers are forbidden to take anything for themselves. Botha never once heard of anyone picked up for picking up garbage, so the regulations about it seem to be universally ignored.

The lowest of the low are the black bag people, those who hunt inside black plastic garbage bags. They have to look through genuine garbage, of course, but can find watches, rings, and even wallets, which they can sell on the street. Somewhat above the black baggers are those who are eating garbage. The best garbage to eat is thrown out by restaurants, and the best time to hunt for such stuff is at closing time. "Sometimes they put the food at the top of the bag so it is easier to find," explains once such collector. Some are dedicated anarchists, loosely organized to share found food so that eating this way is a political option and a rebellion against consumerism. Higher in the hierarchy are the canners, those who survive on what they can make by selling recyclable cans. Mongo is sometimes about making a living, and sometimes about making a life. A Chelsea woman found a computer in the trash several years ago, and from that taught herself to repair found computers, which she now resells. There is a former bank employee here who specializes in books and printed ephemera. He has found a first edition of _Finnegans Wake_ as well as signatures of Benjamin Disraeli and Aaron Burr. There are a couple who dig down in the grounds that used to house outhouses; they can get bottles worth thousands of dollars. Another excavates sludge for what has gone down modern sewers. There are artists who make an entire domestic statement with a folk-art installation of _objets trouvés_. There is the conservator who picks up valuable exotic wood for reinstallation into other houses. There are many collectors here with a passion for what they do, and very few outright loonies. With wide-eyed curiosity, and an agreeable friendliness he shared with his subjects as he does with his readers, Botha has dug up a strange and valuable portion of the national economy.