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.

Thursday, August 9, 2018

August 6 & 13, 2018 Issue


The piece in this week’s issue I enjoyed most is David Kortava’s “Bar Tab: Mehanata,” a vivid account of what it’s like to don a “vintage Eastern Bloc military overcoat,” step inside a “glass-walled ice cage,” and attempt to knock back six shots of vodka in two minutes. Kortava writes,

After downing four shots each, the financier and his associates egressed the cage, divested themselves of their ideologically laden attire, and stumbled over to some stripper poles, where they permitted themselves to dance, clumsily and with inane delight, to “Celebration,” by Kool & the Gang. Nearby, a graffiti portrait of Karl Marx had no choice but to take in the scene. 

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