The New Yorker

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Sep 24, 2006 by

famron

The New Yorker

★★★★★ I love The New Yorker

I’ve been reading The New Yorker on and off for the last 20 years. It started in Hamburg in 1986, where I went for summer work in a desperate bid to try and at least pass my German exams in college. I quickly ran out of reading material, and often called into a city centre bookshop hungry for new books. (So hungry that I actually read all of Ulysses over there, the one and only time I finished it.) That’s where I found The New Yorker; it was news to me that a magazine could contain dense, meaty articles that sometimes went on for ten or twenty pages. It was a life saver.

Diane Ackerman was a favourite writer with her long, detailed, and passionate, articles about wildlife, such as albatrosses, bats, and humpback whales. I’ve never forgotten her tale of the rough boat trip to an isolated Japanese island to see one of the rarest albatrosses in the world.

Back home I found it hard to find the magazine; I got it the odd time in Easons Dublin. I subscribed for a while when I started working, but soon it overwhelmed me, back issues began to build up – my social life had improved – so I cancelled it after a couple of years.

Now I’m back reading it again (no comments about my social life!) for the last couple of years and love it as much as ever. I read all the listings at the front (what are they, in 6pt type?), they’re a master class in succinct communication. I haven’t seen any nature articles in a while, but all the stuff about Bush et al is fascinating, and depressing. David Sedaris is a favourite, and even Sam reads the back page for the cartoon caption competition!

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