Mary Norris is a longtime copy editor at the esteemed New Yorker, the literary weekly that is known for its razor-sharp focus on fact-checking and punctilious attention to grammar and style. Though Norris ruminates on many stylistic issues like the serial comma and the proper use of hyphens (yikes, sure I’ve made errors above), this book is far from another Strunk & White. In between musings on grammar and style, Norris fills the book with interesting anecdotes about the culture and personalities behind the scenes at The New Yorker and adds some color from her Cleveland upbringing and years leading to her career in publishing. At the end of this short book is a wonderful ode to the pencil, and a detailed description of a visit to the Paul A. Johnson Pencil Sharpener Museum in Logan, Ohio. It reads almost like an essay from The New Yorker itself, which I suppose makes sense! Must go to that museum (uh-oh, sentence fragment).
This short novel offers a nostalgic look at England in the 1940s and 1950s. Evie, having just lost her husband after a long marriage, looks back at the fateful summer when they met up at the pleasure palace at the end of the Brighton pier. Evie was meant to marry someone else, Ronnie Doane, aka “The Great Pablo,” a magician whose talents really pull in the crowds in the days before television kept people in their front rooms (and to whom she serves as the feather-plumed magician’s assistant). The novel tells of Ronnie’s back story as a London child war evacuee, whose second family in Oxford is so nurturing and loving that he is conflicted about going back to his real home when the war is over. But Evie marries Jack instead and is ghosted (quite literally) by Ronnie even in her final years of life. A wonderful story about people and relationships.
Comments
Post a Comment