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The New Yorker

The New Yorker

March 2, 2020

Founded in 1925, The New Yorker publishes the best writers of its time and has received more National Magazine Awards than any other magazine, for its groundbreaking reporting, authoritative analysis, and creative inspiration. The New Yorker takes readers beyond the weekly print magazine with the web, mobile, tablet, social media, and signature events. The New Yorker is at once a classic and at the leading edge.

Pays:
United States
Langue:
English
Éditeur:
Conde Nast US
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47 Numéros

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2 min.
contributors

Jonathan Blitzer (“Get Out,” p. 44) became a staff writer in 2017. He covers immigration for newyorker.com. Jennifer Gonnerman (“Burden of Proof,” p. 18) has been a staff writer since 2015. She is the author of “Life on the Outside: The Prison Odyssey of Elaine Bartlett.” Nick Paumgarten (“The Altitude Sickness,” p. 32) began writing for the magazine in 2000. Hannah Fry (Books, p. 61) is a professor at University College London’s Centre for Advanced Spatial Analysis. Her latest book is “Hello World: Being Human in the Age of Algorithms.” Bruce Handy (Sketchpad, p. 17) is a contributing editor at Vanity Fair and the author of “Wild Things: The Joy of Reading Children’s Literature as an Adult.” Carrie Battan (Pop Music, p. 70) started writing for the magazine in 2015 and became a staff writer…

3 min.
the mail

FIFTY SHADES OF GAY Masha Gessen, in an explanation of why some say that Pete Buttigieg is “not gay enough,” mirrors the regressive positions Gessen usually rails against (“The Queer Opposition to Pete Buttigieg, Explained,” newyorker.com/gessen-on-buttigieg, February 12th). As a temperamentally conservative white Christian man, Buttigieg is as palatable as gay people get—a fact that makes this moment in queer history anticlimactic for the nonwhite, non-cisgender, non-male individuals who don’t relate to the queerness that America is most comfortable with. But the milquetoast quality of Buttigieg’s gay identity, and the way he emphasizes his blandness in exchange for political acceptance, shouldn’t make him a target of accusations that he’s not gay in the way that people would like him to be. Gessen blames him for projecting an image that panders to…

26 min.
goings on about town: this week

Rouge can be a color of love, boldness, and vibrance; for Yuna, who dropped an album named for the rosy hue in July, it seems to embody all of those things and then some. Where the singer’s earlier releases tended toward chillier sonic shades, her latest—a collaborative collection of R. & B.-infused pop as polished as it is bright—feels warm and more confident than ever, an apt progression for the Malaysian star. This week, her “Rouge” finds a perfect contrast at Blue Note in six acoustic shows, running Feb. 27-29. ART “Peter Saul: Crime and Punishment” New Museum The timeliest as well as the rudest painting show of this winter happens to be the first-ever New York museum survey of this American aesthetic rapscallion. Recognition so delayed bemuses almost as much as a reminder…

3 min.
tables for two: le crocodile

The answer to the question of what you should order at Le Crocodile, a new French restaurant in Williamsburg, is hiding in plain sight. On the postcard that comes with your check and on the books of matches and toothpicks by the host stand, a series of charmingly naïf illustrations depict a chicken, standing alone or disappearing into the toothy, gaping jaw of a somewhat gleeful-looking reptile. At Le Crocodile, you are the crocodile—get ready to toss le poulet lustily down your gullet. Half of a roasted one comes dripping with jus and sprinkled with chopped parsley, its crisp skin the same shade of golden as the bistro-style French fries piled high beside it. It’s a thrillingly enormous portion of food, befitting this thrillingly enormous sort of restaurant, which took the…

5 min.
comment: the cynicism vote

Early in last week’s Democratic Presidential debate, in Las Vegas, just before it began to seem as if Michael Bloomberg’s cutman might rush onto the stage during a commercial break, carrying a spit bucket and an ice pack, the former mayor of New York made an observation about the candidates. “If we took off this panel everybody that was wrong on criminal justice sometime in their careers,” he said, “there’d be nobody else up here.” He was almost right. A crude way of summarizing the remaining viable contenders in the Democratic field is to note that voters have a choice of: a former mayor who championed stop-and-frisk practices that targeted African-American and Latino men; another former mayor, who fired a black police chief after he recorded phone calls in which senior…

5 min.
the pictures: busybody

One recent afternoon, not long before the première of “Emma,” the first feature film by Autumn de Wilde, the Los Angeles-based director and photographer visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in New York. De Wilde, who is six feet two, wore a plum-colored Borsalino fedora (“I was re-upping my hats, and Bill Nighy helped me”), a high-collared pink blouse, a dark A-line jacket, a mango Prada Galleria bag, navy trousers, pink socks, and black oxford shoes. She carried an elegant cane (“I have arthritis, and I decided not to hide it anymore”) and resembled an amused Edwardian flâneur. “My style icons are two people: Oscar Wilde and Paddington Bear,” she said. She has a special memory of the Met: her five-year-old daughter, asleep—“She was like a long noodle”—on a bench in…