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It is with dread and delight that I welcome the weekly, weekly mind you, into my living room.
There is no keeping up with this magazine. I understand this is a favorite complaint of aficionados of the New Yorker.
It is relentless in bringing a stream of fascinating articles, cartoons, and reviews into the house. You can see me trailing behind this onslaught of the memorable.
To not feel like a failure under this barrage I have set myself strict guidelines in my approach.
As it comes in, I immediately peruse the back pages. Here are cartoon caption contests and impossible puzzles I won’t attempt. Working from back to front, I come upon the critics from whom I learn a great deal. They are a must even if only scanned.
Unfortunately as is the New Yorker’s wont I am not satisfied skimming and have to go on to read every word.
My next task is to be selective about which article or interview I follow. Then on to the front of the book. Here The Talk of the Town captivates.
Here’s the tricky part. I now have only 5 days to peruse this week’s issue, get a glimpse at an article or 2 from the pile of back issues before turning over the publication. My husband takes it from there, delivering a couple of old New Yorkers to the recycle bin.
This lessens my load and eases my conscience.
All The Best 