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, October 22, 2020

October 5, 2020 Issue

Notes on this week’s issue:

1. Steve Futterman, in his “Goings On About Town” review of Diana Krall’s new album This Dream of You, praises Krall’s rendition of Irving Berlin’s wonderful “How Deep Is the Ocean,” calling it “bravely refashioned.” Well, it’s certainly refashioned, but not in a good way. Krall practically destroys it, slowing it to a walk, draining it of its lyricism. Krall, of all people, should know better. She swung this tune beautifully on her 1997 Love Scenes.

2. Doreen St. Félix, in her “Not Quite America,” says of Luca Guadagnino’s HBO drama “We Are Who We Are,” “The attention to young bodies feels almost dangerous.” I agree. The series thrums with sex. I’ve been enjoying it immensely. 

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