June 5, 2025

Last Week's New Yorker Review: 🌱 The Weekend Special (June 9)

The Weekend Special

Pieces are given up to three Boyles (for fiction), Harrimans (for essays), or Parkers (for random picks). As with restaurant stars, even one Boyle, Harriman, or Parker indicates a generally positive review.

🌱 Fiction

“Elias” by Jon Fosse. One Boyle. belief, being, before. As with Fosse’s vast Septology, this is a single endless sentence – literally endless, because it’s excerpted from Fosse’s new novel, so there’s not even a period at the end. The opening, in which the narrator may or may not be hearing a strange knock at the door, but hesitates to rise to see, is the most successful part, a blend of Joyce and Poe that conveys unease while remaining entirely interior. Once the speaker actually starts doing things, the story takes a more spiritual turn, inhabiting the confusion of presence and absence in ways that feel indebted to Catholic philosophy. That’s Fosse’s thing, and I’m not hugely invested in it, especially when it seems to gloss over pain in favor of a slightly pat transcendence. It seems the rest of the book delves more into Jatgeir’s partner Eline, which is good; in the context of this story her portrayal feels weirdly hateful, and though it’s clear that’s just Elias’ perspective, we aren’t given anything outside of that perspective. Fosse’s writing ably conveys the loops and turns of interior monologue – I should hope so, given that it’s his whole thing and he won a Nobel – and this is very fun to read, especially aloud. Who’s that knocking on my door?

🌱 Weekend Essay

“In Praise of Jane Austen’s Least Beloved Novel” by Adelle Waldman. One Harriman. plotline, place, pleasure. Definitely feels like what it is, the introduction to a new edition of Northanger Abbey; it’s less a book review than a book setup, explaining what joys the book has to offer and what might trip a reader up along the way. The former: It’s Austen at her cleverest; the latter: it’s more invested in making a point about the novel form than in being a satisfying novel. That sums it up, and Waldman provides a few extended quotes and some plot synopsis to help us along the path. While it was clearly written to serve a purpose, the review stands on its own, whether or not you’ve read Northanger. (Perhaps you’ve read it in class, and not quite gotten it; perhaps you’re reading it in class, and have to read Waldman’s intro first.) It is what a novel usually isn’t: Useful.

🌱 Random Pick

“The Honored Society” by Norman Lewis. (Feb 8, 15, and 22, 1964). Two Parkers. respect, retire, relinquish. This extremely long read, which filled the whole front half of the magazine over three consecutive weeks, chronicles the Sicilian Mafia as they gain and lose power, and fight with themselves and others. The Godfather movies in the 70s, especially the "Part II" scenes in Sicily, would soon cement the image of the Mafia as sort of brutally romantic. Lewis' narrative doesn't contradict this, but his tone is less Coppola and more Iannucci. Yes, the scenes presented are often brutal, even horrific, but they're usually the result of bumbling failures of communication and counterproductive backbiting, with a sprinkling of self-defeating self-righteousness. Lewis is mostly uninterested in making sure you understand exactly what's going on; he cares more about threading together his various anecdotes: Mussolini seeks to destroy the Mafia because they sabotage attendance to one of his speeches; the Americans, mostly out of stupidity, undo that work by placing Mafia in prominent positions as Sicily is rebuilt. The first and last sections are stronger than the middle one, which spends a very long time on the bandit Salvatore Giuliano (who Mario Puzo made the main character of the Godfather sequel), he’s not uninteresting but he’s mostly a pawn in others’ games. The third section, on the Mafia’s present (which is now its fairly distant past), is especially cynical, showing how the Mafia’s prior ideals, already troubled, have been completely betrayed; they now serve the feudal system they sought to act against. It’s fun to immerse yourself in this world (Lewis’ smashing descriptions of places and people help a lot) and to realize that behind the veil of romance even a made man is just a man.

🌱 Something Extra

It is really unfortunate that Real Women Have Curves is called… that. Because it’s absolutely wonderful. (My partner and I workshopped titles for about an hour, landing on Oye, Muchacha! A ‘Real Women Have Curves’ Musical. Because, in the model of Precious, Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire, one must never discard I.P.) It’s a coming-of-age story about the immigrant experience in late-80s L.A. There’s a matter-of-factness to it that’s totally charming, the cast is hugely talented (so many Broadway debuts!) and I cried at the end. It’s superb, and I hope it starts selling tickets soon! Seriously, is it too late to change the name?

I was expecting to find Boop consistently mediocre; instead I thought it had some very fun scenes and some very misguided scenes. Which does balance out to mediocre, just in a different way.

Sunday Song: