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.

Friday, December 20, 2024

An Inspired Sentence

Almost every day, it seemed, my drawing improved a tiny bit, guided by the shadowy anchovies of subtlety and shadow that swam their way up through the paper immediately under my pencil.

Wow! What a delightful sentence! It’s by Nicholson Baker. I encountered it last night, reading his wonderful Finding a Likeness (2024). It made me smile. Why? It’s original. It’s creative. Most of all, it’s surprising – the surprising word choices (“anchovies,” “subtlety,” “shadow,” “swam") and the delightful, surprising way they’re combined (“the shadowy anchovies of subtlety and shadow that swam their way up through the paper immediately under my pencil”). It’s like listening to jazz and suddenly hearing a gorgeous, shimmering combination of notes never heard before. Baker’s sentence is like that – beautiful, lyrical, beating with the creative impulse.  

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