Word: yorkerism
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...Yorker's most versatile reporters-at-large. According to hour and season, Cheever skates and swims, drinks, dines, visits and walks. His home in Ossining is satisfactorily old (1790) in its history and comfortably modern in its appointments. Cheever has all the mannerisms of the proud landowner. He fiddles with his rotary mower or chain saw, or flails away with limited competence with an ax. He engages in target practice with his son, Ben, 15, who owns a Daisy air rifle. He worries about his unpruned apple trees, or Dutch disease in the elm where the orioles nest...
...newspapers. He has no scandalous opinions, and few opinions on any public subject. "In the presence of more than half a dozen people, he shrinks to the point of anonymity," says a friend. The essential point about this complex man is made by his veteran editor at The New Yorker, William Maxwell. Quoting Gertrude Stein on the absoluteness of creation, Maxwell once said: "If 'a rose is a rose is a rose,' a rose is also a rose-making machine. Cheever is a storymaking machine." To untangle the somewhat lush botanical metaphor, this means not merely that Cheever...
Christmas comes to a certain area of Manhattan in mid-March. There, in the New Yorker Hotel and in the 23rd Street showrooms near Broadway, most of the nation's 1,500 toymakers gathered last week to show off some 200,000 toys that will hit the U.S. market next Christmas season. From plush lions that roar to vinyl dolls that burp, the toys are designed to win the notoriously fickle attention of U.S. children and, toymakers hope, to hike this year's toy sales 20% to $1.3 billion. The prospect of all these toys makes visions...
...dismal one, but is also disjointed and confused. While the Wapshots stay to one side of the picture, a number of characters (some of them quite minor) occupy, with their mutually irrelevant stories, a suprising amount of room. Six parts of The Wapshot Scandal originally appeared in The New Yorker, and signs of the independence that they once enjoyed prevent them from forming a coherent whole...
Perhaps some New Yorker advised the road company that Boston folks just wouldn't respond to British restraint. At any rate, these young men feel compelled to land on every laugh-line with elephantine emphasis. This is hardly what Beyond The Fringe (really quite a subtle piece) or English humor in general is all about...