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, July 22, 2021

Kael v. Kracauer

Pauline Kael (Photo by Jerry Bauer)























Stuart Jefferies, in his “Human Spanner” (London Review of Books, June 17, 2021), a review of Jörg Später’s Kracauer: A Biography, mentions that Pauline Kael panned Siegfried Kracauer’s Theory of Film: The Redemption of Physical Reality (1960). He quotes Kael’s “Is There a Cure for Film Criticism?” (included in her 1965 collection I Lost It at the Movies), and says, “Kracauer was worse than a pedant, she said, he was a lunatic to take cinema so seriously. Perhaps Kael was the lunatic for making her own career out of writing about a medium she couldn’t take seriously.” Sorry, I can’t let that pass without pointing out that (1) Kael didn’t say Kracauer was a lunatic to take cinema so seriously; she said he was a lunatic because his aesthetic rejected art; and (2), saying Kael couldn’t take movies seriously is like saying Wayne Gretzky couldn’t take hockey seriously. Come on! She wrote some of the best movie criticism ever written: see, for example, “Bonnie and Clyde” (The New Yorker, October 21, 1967); “Raising Kane” (The New Yorker, February 20, 1971). Stuart Jeffries, you don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. 

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