Word: yorkers
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Scornful Blasts. Along the way, he has blasted the work of most of his colleagues, including such contemporary reviewers as the New York Times's Harold Schonberg ("vulgarity and offensiveness"), and The New Yorker's Winthrop Sargeant ("deficiencies of critical perception, judgment and taste"). Recently, he wrote scornfully that Metropolitan Opera General Manager Rudolf Bing is "a bully" whose "monstrosities" prove him to be "not only without understanding of the special requirements of opera but without taste...
...chattier and more discursive. Written by hardened New York novelists and journalists, they cover the town with a cynical gallantry and inverse snobbery typical of the big-city provincial. This prevailing tone accounts for both the strengths and weaknesses of the book. It is authentic-mirroring the New Yorker's romance with artistic success and mechanical failure, Jewishness, the infallibility of cab drivers and elevator men, the superiority of Manhattan parks, ghettos and delicatessens. Tom Wolfe, a Yale Ph. D. in American Studies who has become a kind of Boswell of hip New York, contributes a scathing parody...
...Jackson Lake, about the only Romney agent in sight was his wife Lenore, who was seen toting a handbag embroidered with the slogan, LET GEORGE DO IT. Only one Reagan operative was on hand. But F. Clifton White, the upstate New Yorker whose brilliant organizational work was a major factor in Barry Goldwater's 1964 nomination, flew in with several of the men who helped him pull off that coup...
...Wilson says he has "got to the age now when people like to retell old jokes and anecdotes"-the perfect age, in other words, for his autobiography. A Prelude is the first installment. As readers of The New Yorker found when A Prelude ran this spring, Wilson's memoirs have no narrative line, consist mainly of a string of entries from a journal he began keeping in 1914 "to catch sur le vif things that struck me as significant or interesting." Epigrams, verbal preenings, a lexicon of slang, fugitive thoughts, reading lists, poems, stories-all are spread out like...
...Perfect Rose. In The New Yorker, she signed her book reviews, "Constant Reader." As a critic, she was really a constant housekeeper, tidying up after messy writers, but humming impudently as she went about her business. She could tweak A. A. Milne's The House at Pooh Corner in one line...