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 Galchen, 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, July 1, 2023

Postscript: Alan Arkin 1934 - 2023

I see in the Times that Alan Arkin died. I remember him for his extraordinary performance as the deaf-mute in Robert Ellis Miller’s The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. I saw that film when it first came out, in 1968. I was fifteen, just embarking on my love affair with movies. It was a great time to start. Bonnie and Clyde, Cool Hand Luke, and In the Heat of the Night had all appeared the previous year. The acting in those films impressed me immensely. Then I saw Arkin’s performance in The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. It bowled me over. For years after, when anyone asked me who my favorite actors were, I’d answer Paul Newman, Rod Steiger and Alan Arkin. Today, looking at old reviews of The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, I see that Renata Adler, in The New York Times, wrote, “Alan Arkin, as Singer, is extraordinary, deep and sound.” This strikes me as exactly right.     

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