Introduction

What is The New Yorker? I know it’s a great magazine and that it’s a tremendous source of pleasure in my life. But what exactly is it? This blog’s premise is that The New Yorker is a work of art, as worthy of comment and analysis as, say, Keats’s “Ode on a Grecian Urn.” Each week I review one or more aspects of the magazine’s latest issue. I suppose it’s possible to describe and analyze an entire issue, but I prefer to keep my reviews brief, and so I usually focus on just one or two pieces, to explore in each the signature style of its author. A piece by Nick Paumgarten is not like a piece by Jill Lepore, and neither is like a piece by Ian Frazier. One could not mistake Collins for Seabrook, or Bilger for Goldfield, or Mogelson for Kolbert. Each has found a style, and it is that style that I respond to as I read, and want to understand and describe.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

December 6, 2010 Issue


Pick Of The Issue this week is unquestionably Gay Talese’s “Travels with a Diva.” Reading it, I was reminded of Ian Frazier’s description of Russia: “chaos almost out of control.” Talese’s piece is a profile of the young Russian opera singer Marina Poplavskaya. She is a classic study in pushy, mercurial, larger-than-life, heavenly diva conduct. I hasten to add that I’m not an opera buff. I read this article for the pleasure of Talese’s writing. I was not disappointed. Detail by detail, anecdote by anecdote, Talese patiently, masterfully builds his portrait, until it is as rich in color and texture as a John Singer Sargent.

Some of the details are extraordinary: Poplavskaya’s colored pencils (“She carries a dozen or so colored pencils with her, each representing to her a particular emotional color or key…. B minor is represented by emerald green, C major, by a shade of goldish red”), the seats in Buenos Aires’ Teatro Colón (“The theatre’s ornate chairs are upholstered in red velvet, and their carved-wood backs are topped with gold filigree”), Poplavskaya’s singing (“At one point, she held a note for ten seconds, and it cut like a diamond sabre right through the sounds of a hundred choral singers and a hundred instrumentalists”), Daniel Barenboim’s choice of cigar (“Edicion Limitada 2010”).

I like the way Talese keeps “Travels with a Diva” in the “I.” Reading it is like reading an excerpt from a really lively, personal journal. When Talese says, “I had never been to Russia, and when she suggested that late summer would be a good time to come I made the arrangements,” I smiled and said to myself, “Let the adventure begin.” And it is an adventure, a great ride all the way. I lapped it up, and when it was over, yearned for more.

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