"A Simple Medium": Tom Bissell's profile of Chuck Lorre, creator of Two and a Half Men. Last I checked, Bissell was in a weird funk writing about his cocaine/video-game addiction. Good to see him writing about something else. Nothing particularly fascinating about Lorre, although he does have sort of a Rupert Murdock complex, convinced in the legitimacy of his hackery and the elitism of his detractors. It's a pleasant read. Lorre's other claim to fame: he wrote the theme to Teenage Mutant Ninka Turtles. (+1)
"Community Service": Shouts & Murmers piece about helping a church in Williamsburg. If you read it out loud, and with a laugh track, it's sort of like something you would hear on the Moth. It's exactly like something you would hear on the Moth. (-2)
"Toy Stories": Patricia Marx is a capable writer, but this thing where she assembles a bunch of stuff for sale based on a category is just an edit away from a well written listicle. Granted, there are the old-school New Yorker flourishes where she pulls out a really juicy statistic or a reference to Locke. But I'm just not amused by these things anymore. Maybe it's a sly take on Consumer Reports or some publication or genre that I don't read. I know Marx to be a sly writer. She made her bones writing for Spy. This was just ho-hum. (+0)
"Travels with a Diva": Gay Telease...never heard of this writer prior to this issue. Read about a quarter of the way through, and I started wondering what was up with the writer constantly inserting himself (or herself) into the story. It was sort of Gonzo, and I hate Gonzo. I looked up this Gay Telease, found out he was one of the definitive New Journalists. He wrote an article about Frank Sinatra that focused on his pursuit of Sinatra. He's appeared in Doonesbury. I read the rest of the article in an old man's voice. It was a profile of an opera singer. But she was Russian, so that meant there were some blackly comedic flourishes: the story about how her grandfather sold her beautiful hair to pay the bar tab. Interestingly, the soprano's erratic behavior profiled by Telease is stylistically just a kissing-cousin away from the flaky, prima dona prose of the New Journalist. SEE WHAT I DID THERE???? I lost interest and didn't finish reading it. (+0)
"Word": Kelefa Sanneh does a fine job contrasting Jay Z's new book with the Yale Anthology of Rap. Facinating read. The Anthology takes a beating for a lack of footnotes and close-mindedness. Jay Z is praised for his charm and candor. I don't plan to read either book. (+2)
"Anytime, Anywhere": Sasha-Frere Jones must have finished that book on Michael Jackson, because he's beginning to appear with greater frequency. I'm not complaining; this was a spirited analysis of Kanye West's past year of inspiration and ignominy. Note how Jones begins his article with a question, and you are actually pulled in. (+1)
"Costello": Jim Gavin's first story for the magazine. Tried to find out who this guy is. Is it this Jim Gavin? Maybe this Jim Gavin. Neither of the websites are crowing about being published in the New Yorker, so either the real Jim Gavin has escaped my search, or he hasn't updated his blog because he's been swept away by a literary agent and forced to complete a novel while the hour is nigh.
As for the story. The title character is a loser of George Saunders proportions. Although he's a fairly successful plumber with a pool, he has the misfortune of living next to an extremely successful plumber. The story's a vignette, with Rocha inviting Costello to a party to celebrate his awesomeness, and Costella hiding and feeling suicidal. He eats four hot dogs and five hot dog buns in one sitting. Something's happened to him a year ago. The story is a little clumsy with the exposition, or rather it feels like it's been workshopped like hell. Show, show, show, etc. The influences are numerous: Saunders, with the oppression of middle-management; Beattie, with the incessant name-brand-dropping; Steinbeck, with the under-written evil businessmen with college degrees. And Charles D'Ambrosio, who published a whole slew of stories a couple of years ago. The ending of this story has a similar absurd machismo that reminded of "The High Divide" and "The Point". People dealing with demons, doing manly things in novel ways. Lyrical as all get out. With D'Ambrosio, it is so lyrical and so foursquare that it becomes irritating, you just want to grab him and throttle the guy and say STOP IT JUST TELL YOUR STORY OKAY DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT THESE PEOPLE?
With Gavin, this is not the case. Maybe that's because he's not as talented a writer, or maybe because he is a more talented writer. Hopefully he'll publish again, soon. Enjoyed this story, even if the ending was a little schmaltzy and predictable. (+1)
Overall score: 3
Not sure what this score means, since this is my first time handicapping the New Yorker. Should you spend money on this issue? A tentative yes.
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