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Word: yorker (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1930-1939
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Usage:

...work, which has been compared to Thackeray's by Clifton "Information Please" Fadiman of the New Yorker, Marquand said, "The awful thing in writing in to take yourself too seriously. I don't want ever to feel I'm a great writer I want to be only too conscious of my own defects. Nor do I yearn to write a 'monumental work...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: J. P. Marquand, Boston Satirist, Found How Culture Feels While at Harvard | 3/24/1939 | See Source »

Recent issues of The New Yorker have devoted quite a little space to a story, which they relate in seeming earnestness, contending that Herr Hitler was killed about four or five years ago and that his place has been taken by a double or doubles since his death...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters, Mar. 13, 1939 | 3/13/1939 | See Source »

...American humor is steadily moving towards French wit," said Andre Maurois, distinguished French author and scholar, in an interview last night. "It is the influence of city life on American authors that is bringing this change, most evident in the humor of such typical publications as "The New Yorker," he continued...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: City Influence Moves American Humor Towards French Wit, States Maurois | 3/8/1939 | See Source »

Elwyn Brooks ("Andy") White for eleven years wrote the oxymoronic introductory paragraphs to each New Yorker issue. The tone of these paragraphs, a kind of precocious, off-hand humming, has been imitated but never exactly reproduced by his successors. In 1937 he resigned from The New Yorker, after writing an inimitable farewell whose gamut ranged from a baritone sigh to a neurasthenic squeak. True to his theme (that the town was getting too much for him) he went off to live in the Maine countryside, at North Brooklin. Thence he contributes a monthly page (considerably duller than his New Yorker...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Humorist | 3/6/1939 | See Source »

Last week was published E. B. W.'s second slim collection of little prose pieces-most of them from the files of The New Yorker-which will please the melancholy humor of many a modern Jaques. E. B. W. dips the broken reed with which he writes into various liquids-diluted acid, crocodile tears, the milk of human kindness; and the thread of his writing is like the trail of a sometimes sympathetic, sometimes exasperating, always bewildered insect...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Humorist | 3/6/1939 | See Source »

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