April 11, 2016 Issue

There’s a scene in Gay Talese’s extraordinary "The Voyeur's Motel," in this week’s issue, that went straight into my collection of unforgettable New Yorker images. The piece is about a man named Gerald Foos, who, in the sixties, bought a motel in Aurora, Colorado, “in order to become its resident voyeur.” He converted the motel’s attic into a viewing platform. In 1980, Foos contacted Talese, suggesting Talese write his story. Talese decided to meet him. He traveled to Aurora, stayed at Foos’s motel (the Manor House Motel), crawled across the carpeted attic catwalk with Foos, looked down through the specially designed ceiling vents, and watched a naked couple having sex. Here’s the scene:

Despite an insistent voice in my head telling me to look away, I continued to observe, bending my head farther down for a closer view. As I did so, I failed to notice that my necktie had slipped down through the slats of the louvred screen and was dangling into the motel room within a few yards of the woman’s head. I realized my carelessness only when Foos grabbed me by the neck and, with his free hand, pulled my tie up through the slats. The couple below saw none of this: the woman’s back was to us, and the man had his eyes closed.

It’s a creepy moment, but also whacky – Hitchcock via Woody Allen. I smiled when I read it. Talese’s viewing of the attic catwalk is crucial to his piece. He says, “If I had not seen the attic viewing platform with my own eyes, I would have found it hard to believe Foos’s account.” I would’ve found it hard to believe, too. Talese’s use of “I” is masterful. It authenticates his narrative.

There are two other excellent articles in this week’s issue – James Lasdun’s "Alone in the Alps and Rachel Aviv’s "The Cost of Caring" – but they’re overshadowed by “The Voyeur’s Motel,” which I think is destined to be some sort of oddball classic. 

December 6, 2010 Issue

Pick Of The Issue this week is unquestionably Gay Talese’s “Travels with a Diva.” Reading it, I was reminded of Ian Frazier’s description of Russia: “chaos almost out of control.” Talese’s piece is a profile of the young Russian opera singer Marina Poplavskaya. She is a classic study in pushy, mercurial, larger-than-life, heavenly diva conduct. I hasten to add that I’m not an opera buff. I read this article for the pleasure of Talese’s writing. I was not disappointed. Detail by detail, anecdote by anecdote, Talese patiently, masterfully builds his portrait, until it is as rich in color and texture as a John Singer Sargent.

Some of the details are extraordinary: Poplavskaya’s colored pencils (“She carries a dozen or so colored pencils with her, each representing to her a particular emotional color or key…. B minor is represented by emerald green, C major, by a shade of goldish red”), the seats in Buenos Aires’ Teatro Colón (“The theatre’s ornate chairs are upholstered in red velvet, and their carved-wood backs are topped with gold filigree”), Poplavskaya’s singing (“At one point, she held a note for ten seconds, and it cut like a diamond sabre right through the sounds of a hundred choral singers and a hundred instrumentalists”), Daniel Barenboim’s choice of cigar (“Edicion Limitada 2010”).

I like the way Talese keeps “Travels with a Diva” in the “I.” Reading it is like reading an excerpt from a really lively, personal journal. When Talese says, “I had never been to Russia, and when she suggested that late summer would be a good time to come I made the arrangements,” I smiled and said to myself, “Let the adventure begin.” And it is an adventure, a great ride all the way. I lapped it up, and when it was over, yearned for more.