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.

Monday, March 30, 2020

Notes on Becca Rothfeld's "The Joy of Text"
























Notes on Becca Rothfeld’s “The Joy of Text” (Bookforum, Feb/Mar 2020), an effusive review of James Wood’s new essay collection Serious Noticing:

1. Rothfeld says that of the twenty-eight pieces included in Serious Noticing, “only two are negative” – "Paul Auster’s Shallowness” and “Hysterical Realism.” I think there’s a third: “George Orwell’s Very English Revolution,” in which Wood calls Orwell a “puritan masochist,” suggests that he “heightened” passages in his memoir Down and Out in Paris, and argues that Orwell’s socialism had Fascist roots. (See my “James Wood’s Vile ‘George Orwell’s Very English Revolution.’ ”)

2. Rothfeld says that Serious Noticing’s Introduction is new. This isn’t entirely true. Part of it is new, and part of it is from Wood’s “Using Everything,” included in his 2015 collection The Nearest Thing to Life.

3. My appreciation of Wood differs radically from Rothfeld’s. She says his writing is “sensuous,” “lush,” and “novelistic.” Those are just about the last words I’d use to describe his work. To me, Wood is a thinker, not a feeler. He’s at his best when he’s dissecting a piece of writing, showing how it works. His most inspired sentences aren’t lush; they’re glittering combines of observation and quotation (e.g., “How strange and original that ‘clutching itself’ is, and how appropriate that the loveless Lester Ballard might think this way about a spider’s shriveling”).

4. Rothfeld describes Wood’s Melville piece as “exquisite” – “perhaps the best in Serious Noticing.” I found it the least interesting – too much blather about God (e.g., “The difficulty is that, if we really did live in the world according to God’s time, we would be thought mad: for this is just what Jesus did”; “Language breaks up God, releases us from the one meaning of the predestinating God, but merely makes that God differently inscrutable by flooding Him with thousands of different meanings”). 

5. My favorite Wood essay is one he’s never collected – “Late and Soon” (The New Yorker, December 10, 2012), a review of Per Petterson’s novels. Wood’s extensive quotations from Petterson’s I Curse the River of Time and his fascinating analyses of those quotations persuaded me to seek this book out and read it. This is something I rarely do; I’m not a fan of fiction. I found I Curse the River of Time so good, I read it twice, savoring its “curling form and drifting sentences” (Wood’s words). I count it among my favorite books. 

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