As with much of this genre, it comes with many layers.
I feel very fortunate to have lived the life I have - so far; I find both fascination and discomfort in viewing. And that's all from within myself, not from the images which, in the end, record what's there, as does most of photography. There's a certain sense of violation of innocence (probably totally not the case) in my mind, as well as a respect for what seems to me to be a kind of courage that I fear I absolutely lack; I don't think I'd even go walkies in those places, never mind click!
Yet, I wonder if comparisons with those snappers of the 30s, 40s and 50s really are valid. I'm not thinking about photographic technique here, I'm concerned with the difference in public, subjects' expectations of then and now. I know for a fact that I hate having tourist cameras pointed my way in summer; I'm perfectly aware I'm not the subject (I hope!) but I still feel it a violation. Yes, this has previously resulted in the advice here to stay home, but I disregard that as simply reader inability to understand the point or, more likely, not to want to understand it.
Either way, the photographs are very well seen and executed, and that's not where my problem lies. And yes, of course, it is my problem.