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, May 2, 2026

April 27, 2026 Issue

Pick of the Issue this week is John McPhee’s brilliant “Tabula Rasa, Volume 6.” It appears that McPhee’s “old-man project” is working. It’s keeping him alive. But I’d argue it’s doing more than that. It’s refining his already incomparable style – making it even fresher, lighter, zingier. “Unhomogenized, this was udder-grade milk of the Champlain Valley.” I love that sentence. It’s from “A Legacy Taste of Cream” – the first piece in this new volume. Consider this one, from “Maraschino,” the number four piece in the volume: “I.G.A., of course, is the Independent Grocers Alliance, and this is your vox-pop cherry, your socialist cherry, but politics is not why you drown it in bourbon.” There’s something deliciously surreal about that line – the combination of “Independent Grocers Alliance,” “vox-pop cherry,” “socialist cherry,” “drown,” and “bourbon” – that makes me smile. Here’s one more – this from the seventh piece “For One Person”: “Over and over, I ran those films on our family projector, watching Pepper Constable (6'1", 191) go off-tackle, shucking Yalies, Harvards, on his way to the end zone.” The name “Pepper Constable” is itself a minor pleasure. Couple it with “go off-tackle” and “shucking Yalies, Harvards” and you have an inspired sentence. There are dozens of such felicities in this latest “Tabula Rasa.” I enjoyed it immensely.  

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