Word: yorkers
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...England ancestors, his childhood in Quincy, Mass., as the second son of a failed father and domineering mother, his expulsion from Thayer Academy, his struggles to make his name as a writer during the 1930s, and his growing < recognition as a regular contributor of short stories to The New Yorker; then marriage and three children -- Susan, Ben, Federico -- and the move to the exurbs north of New York City; increasing renown, novels, prizes, alcoholism, depression, extramarital affairs; finally, the kicking of alcohol and the redemption of finding himself rich and famous...
...artistic prospects for next year seem dim. It's hard to anticipate greatness after a year in which the Dean of Students Archie C. Epps III declared that Spenser for Hire was quality television, a year in which the Advocate published a parody of the New Yorker and nobody got the joke, a year in which the city of Cambridge silenced Harvard Square street folk singer Luke because a city councillor thought he attracted skinheads. Still, there is enough creativity and activity on campus to insure more innovation--to make us think, or at least keep us awake...
...trying to make this case, it may seem like an unnecessary, self-imposed handicap to start off with a quote from The Greening of America, the definitive expression of the 1960s zeitgeist and possibly the most foolish book ever to be serialized in The New Yorker and debated on the New York Times op-ed page (though that is a bold claim). But just 18 years ago, a book rhapsodizing about the pleasures of getting high got the kind of serious attention reserved more recently for The Fate of the Earth and The Closing of the American Mind. This...
...year-old when he arrived on the New York literary scene in the early '40s. (He came by way of Greenwich, Conn.; his mother had married a prosperous New York businessman named Joe Capote, who turned out to be a kindly stepfather.) Capote wangled a job at The New Yorker, and at night wrote and overwrote fevered, delicate, swamp-baroque stories that were skewed images of Monroeville. On the strength of one story in Mademoiselle, Random House signed the new phenom to a book contract...
...major talent for self-publicizing. Capote talked endlessly about "the difference between very good writing and true art" and left no doubt which he was serving up. To a considerable extent he was taken at his own estimation, though a large part of his writing (his 1957 New Yorker portrait of Marlon Brando is an overpraised example) was nothing more than good, smooth journalism. His pretense that the powerful and meticulously written In Cold Blood was something to be called a nonfiction novel demeaned both forms...