Author Archives: Martin

A Little More Background on Crumb’s “Elvis Tilley”

Martin Schneider writes:
The “New Yorker Out Loud” podcast featured an intriguing revelation this week, and I thought I’d draw a little more attention to it.
In recent weeks Emily has followed the Eustace Tilley contest with understandably keen interest. It’s worth recalling that this manner of remix or appropriation was once less customary—it was a mere 14 years ago that the iconic annual Eustace Tilley cover was “messed with” by the great R. Crumb. Since 1993 we’ve seen all kinds of versions by Art Spiegelman (1997), Chris Ware (2005), Seth (2008), and many others.
I wasn’t living in the United States at the time, so it was difficult for me to gauge the uproar, but I’ve heard that Crumb’s image of “Elvis Tilley,” whom The New York Times described as “a squinting, pointy-nosed street punk with a marked resemblance to his grandfather,” caused something of a stir.
Matt Dellinger interviewed Françoise Mouly this week for the podcast, and she divulged the back story to the cover:

Dellinger: The first time you updated Eustace Tilley, it was for a portfolio inside the magazine. It wasn’t until your second year, in 1994, that you did it on the cover.
Mouly: It took a while before we could do it on the cover, because you may not judge a book by its cover, but you judge a magazine by its cover! … and it has to represent a kind of consensus. Ironically enough, that moment happened through somebody who had no other connection to the magazine, Robert Crumb, longtime friend…. and I’d asked him, as soon as I started here, to do a cover for The New Yorker, and he sent me this image, and it’s a young man looking at a flyer. And it just so happened to be on the sidewalk right in front of the building where our offices were at the time, on 42nd Street. So I recognized the sidewalk, and I was like, “Well why is he doing this young man with a flyer, okay….” I showed it to Tina, I was somewhat puzzled, and we accepted it as a cover to run, and it’s only like weeks after that I’m looking at it and I’m going, “Oh my god! Oh my god! It’s Eustace Tilley!” It just….
Dellinger: So neither of you saw it, neither of you understood….
Mouly: No, no! Because it’s actually very subtle, there’s no top hat, there is no butterfly….
Dellinger: Right, it’s a kid in a red baseball cap, on backwards, he’s looking actually not at a monocle but at a porn flyer.
Mouly: We have it up on our website, actually. Yeah, so, all there was of Eustace Tilley—he’s in a street, he’s not wearing a waistcoat, there’s no signifier, it’s a profile of somebody … the only thing is the looking down at what you’re looking at, the kind of supercilious look. That’s what Robert got and completely repackaged it. It was too beautiful to not do it, by the time we did it as the first “breaking” of the anniversary issue. I think everybody in the office, the other editors, had given up on any kind of decency on the cover anymore, so….

Fascinating. I had always assumed that the cover was a sensation concocted by Mouly, her husband Art Spiegelman, and their boss Tina Brown, to goose the staider portions of the magazine’s subscriber base. How charming to learn that the whole thing was not a corporate provocation but an affectionate joke from the fertile mind of Crumb!

And Now For a Warm Welcome

Emily and I are very pleased to introduce a new member to the Emdashes team. His name is Benjamin Chambers, and some of you will recall his e-mails on past New Yorker essays and his post comments over the past weeks. We’ve been very impressed by his powers of expression, and we look forward to his sure-to-be-insightful posts.
Benjamin’s column will focus on fiction and will be called The Katharine Wheel, aptly named after The New Yorker‘s first fiction editor, Katharine White. We feel certain that Benjamin will roam wherever his interest takes him, stories appearing in The New Yorker each week, stories from the distant past encountered in The Complete New Yorker, novels by people associated with The New Yorker, and so on. And if he has any diverting comments on any other subject, we hope he’ll feel free to contribute those too!
Benjamin is the editor of The King’s English, a prizewinning online magazine that specializes in novella-length fiction, which you should definitely check out. He received his MFA from Washington University in St. Louis and has had his fiction, poetry, and essays published in numerous journals, including The Iowa Review, ZYZZYVA, MANOA, and the Mississippi Review.
I’ve enjoyed corresponding with him in recent days, and I’m sure his wit, wisdom, and good taste will enhance this humble project. Welcome, Benjamin!
—Martin Schneider

This Just In: E.B. White Was Versatile

Yesterday, Bill Christensen of Technovelgy.com reported that the Russians have plans to construct a new space platform and have it in use by the year 2020. According to Christensen, there have been serious proposals for a “earth satellite vehicle program” as far back as the 1940s, but the first use of the term “space platform” may have appeared in E.B. White’s short story “The Morning of the Day They Did It,” published in the February 25, 1950, issue of The New Yorker. Christensen describes the story as “scary,” and, if I’m following my links correctly, elsewhere writes,

Absolutely first-rate story by White makes me think I completely misunderstood Stuart Little. A man who works on a Stratovideo plane in the nascent television industry writes the story of the end of the world. This story is so up-to-date you’ll whimper with fear by the end. Highly recommended.

Mercy! Well, I couldn’t resist an endorsement like that. I busted out The Complete New Yorker to have a look.
I won’t admit to whimpering, but the story is very well turned indeed. It’s got a few dated bits but not too many; Christensen has a point that it holds up well. (Good writing remains good writing.) It reminded me of nothing so much as 2001: A Space Odyssey, which I suppose is unavoidable. (If you’re wondering, Arthur C. Clarke‘s story “The Sentinel” was written a couple of years earlier but seems not to have been published right away.)
Just to enhance the mood, here’s a 1949 painting of a similar object by legendary fantasist Frank Tinsley:

tinsley49.jpg

The story is full of imaginative touches—the Americans invent a pesticide that accidentally kills off all the birds and the bees (except for the whooping crane, for some reason), and all human beings have to get a special injection every three weeks in order to ward off the poisons now in the food. The story features a TV studio in outer space and a character named Major General Artemus T. Recoil.
And the United States does end up destroying the world, but you know what?
We meant well.
—Martin Schneider

Found in the Chapter Menu: The President’s Analyst

The President’s Analyst, written and directed by Theodore J. Flicker and starring James Coburn in the title role, was released in 1967—which fact is screamingly evident in virtually every frame. I saw a big chunk of it many years ago, and in my mind it’s always remained a mashup of Dick and I Love You, Alice B. Toklas! with a little bit of Skidoo thrown in. (We learned recently that David Denby is a big fan of Otto Preminger—I’d love to know what he makes of Skidoo.)
Let’s be frank: The President’s Analyst is kind of a mess. Its hallmark is the sort of hysterical puerility much better carried off some years later in The In-Laws. Watching the DVD (and enjoying the movie about as much as I had), Friend of Emdashes Jarrett noticed something odd: the people responsible for the DVD menu, rather than select some swirly go-go typeface, as seen in for instance the poster, went with a close approximation of Irvin. (In the poster, the title is set in the shape of an analyst’s couch, which is one of those “good” ideas better off relegated to the dustbin. You can see this idea carried over in the words “Scene Selection.”)
Jarrett kindly provided Emdashes with some screengrabs. Here they are:

TPA%27s-TNY-Font1.gif
TPA%27s-TNY-Font2.gif
TPA%27s-TNY-Font3.gif
TPA%27s-TNY-Font4.gif
TPA%27s-TNY-Font5.gif

It’s not quite a perfect match, I don’t think, but it’s very close. Nice to see my distant relative Dwayne F. Schneider there in that final chapter. Oh, here’s that silly couch lettering:
The_Presidents_Analyst_1.jpg

And here’s a random still from the movie with Coburn jamming on some kind of gong:
screens_video-17892.jpeg

Incidentally: what did The New Yorker make of the movie, anyway? Brendan Gill reviewed it in the January 6, 1968, issue. He didn’t like it either:

“The President’s Analyst” … has a fine idea for a comedy, which it wantonly tosses away…. From the moment the analyst turns up in a fright wig at a folk-rock party, the movie loses control of itself and pitches headlong into greater and greater exaggeration.

Exactly.
—Martin Schneider

Today Votes the Mitten: Will It Be Romney?

The “mitten” is, of course, Michigan, and today the Republicans there are participating in a primary election. In a welcome change of pace from the past couple of weeks, the media is not treating the contest as the most pivotal event ever to occur in western civilization.
Today the focus is on Mitt Romney, because he hasn’t won a big contest yet (he did win the Wyoming caucus, which hardly anyone noticed) and because his father George was governor of the state for much of the 1960s. It’s illuminating to read up on the New Yorker coverage of George Romney’s infamous 1967 slip that he had been “brainwashed” during a trip to Vietnam two years earlier, which sure did a number on his chances at a presidential bid the next year. Check out the last line of William Whitworth’s Comment from the September 23, 1967, issue:

It seems to us that, in their fascination with Governor Romney’s Vietnam ordeal, the newspapers have ignored something at least equally significant in this episode—that the debate over the war has reached a point at which a prominent moderate Republican seeking his party’s Presidential nomination has publicly declared that the United States should never have entered the war.

Doesn’t that sound like the kind of thing you would read today? Of course, thus far, Mitt has chosen not to emulate dear old dad; his position, as expressed in an April 2007 speech, is that “walking away from Iraq, or dividing it in parts and then walking away would present grave risks to America.”
As it happens, the very same issue has a Letter from Washington by Richard Rovere that also mentions Romney’s catastrophic utterance. It’s interesting to see Rovere grappling with a highly unpopular president and war—within six months, the country would see LBJ withdraw his reelection candidacy, and American forces taken by surprise in the Tet offensive. I don’t draw Iraq/Vietnam comparisons lightly, but the whole thing seems mighty familiar.
On another political topic, the polling debacle in New Hampshire a week ago got me thinking about that profession a bit. It must be bizarre for a politician to have some consultant come in and say, “White males hate your guts” or whatever. I fully expect to get a letter someday informing me that I really need to shore up my numbers among Hispanic professionals over 35.
The man who started it all is George Gallup, and The New Yorker‘s Russell Maloney, who seems to have been a real mainstay at the magazine back in the day—I’ve been running into his name a lot lately—did a bang-up Profile on him in 1940. It’s called “Black Beans and White Beans.” We learn that Gallup was apparently given to quoting Talleyrand to the effect that “the only thing wiser than anybody is everybody.” Paging James Surowiecki!
—Martin Schneider

New Year’s New Yorker Short Story Resolution: Installment II

More dispatches from my short story resolution:
Kay Boyle, “Kroy Wen,” July 25, 1931
Plot: Movie mogul harrasses poor Italians on a cruise.
Noah Webster alert: “repine” means both to complain and to pine.
George Milburn, “The Apostate,” June 4, 1932
Plot: Rotarian learns there’s more to life than the club.
Just wait forty years: “longhairs”
Excellent term of endearment: “you mangy old son of a hoss thief”
Excellent term of abuse: “sourbelly”
Jerome Weidman, “Chutzbah,” February 29, 1936
Plot: Charming boy from the old neighborhood is a bit of a shyster.
Inscrutable reference: Anyone know what “Leevio” means?
Good question: Is this story anti-Semitic?
J.F. Powers, “Death of a Favourite,” July 1, 1950
Plot: Parish priests in Minnesota perform an exorcism on a very unlikely subject.
Worthy of note: Title is likely a Thomas Gray reference.
Hot quotation: “Then they were gone, and after a bit, when they did not return, I supposed they were out killing poultry on the open road.”
Daniel Fuchs, “The Golden West,” July 10, 1954
Plot: Hollywood people suffer during a garden party.
Censorious Shawn alert: “whatsis” used to denote female posterior.
Hot quotation: “Mrs. Ashton was an intensely serious person, and as she lunged and flung herself about, she clearly had no idea of the violent effect the game was having on her bosom.”
A crank would say: The Osterman Weekend without the machine guns. Or possibly L’Avventura on Benzedrine.
Best story: “Death of a Favourite”
—Martin Schneider
Previously: Installment I

How Much Do They Pay Her If Obama Wins?

In this political season, we note with interest that former New Yorker editor and recent Princess Diana memoirist has signed a deal with Doubleday to write a book about the Clintons. Her last book was called The Diana Chronicles; this one is tentatively titled The Clinton Chronicles. Judging from the title, we may have another Sue Grafton on our hands! (I’d certainly pay to read her Rick James Chronicles or Chuck Norris Chronicles.)
It’ll be interesting to see how this plays out. On the one hand, Brown was uniquely qualified to write a book about Diana, and she really came through on all levels. One doesn’t know if she has the same access to the Clinton story or even to what extent she is a political animal. However, The Diana Chronicles did prove that she has considerable talent in entertainingly synthesizing huge amounts of information on heavily covered (I almost wrote “chronicled”) subjects. And, as I noted in June, she’s already been giving Hillary Clinton a bit of thought.
—Martin Schneider

Brave, Lonely Dissents Are the Best Kind

I admit it. I’m an Obama man. I was psyched after Iowa, and I was dejected upon hearing the news of Hillary Clinton’s victory this morning (wrong time zone for prime time results). Several hours later, I see the positive side of Clinton’s comeback, and I find myself looking forward to the spirited few weeks of political combat to come.
Not many people saw Clinton’s strong showing yesterday coming, but I did want to salute Hendrik Hertzberg for being one of the very few people to get at least a small part of the story dead right, a mere day after the Iowa result, when the Obamania was at its freshest and most difficult to contravene.
I confess that when I listened to the last installment of the delightful New Yorker podcast “The Campaign Trail”—which usually features The New Yorker‘s Washington correspondent, Ryan Lizza, and executive editor, Dorothy Wickenden (they make a very good team), but the day after Iowa also included Hertzberg, the magazine’s chief political commentator—I made a dismissive clucking sound with my tongue upon hearing Hertzberg’s negative assessment of Obama’s prepared caucus-night speech and praise for Clinton’s “gracious” concession. Just as we learned not to be overhasty about writing any candidate off, we likewise shouldn’t read too much into what was likely a small part of Clinton’s comeback.
But the fact remains, that Hertzberg, both in the podcast and on his blog, may have foreseen Obama’s tendency to turn his movement into a hazy abstraction and Clinton’s newfound need to hunker down and show her more affable side. It’s already difficult to reconstruct how heretical that take seemed on Friday, and Hertzberg deserves credit for not letting the prevailing winds buffet him about.
I hope Hertzberg participates in the next podcast so he can crow over his prescience! (Which he surely won’t.)
—Martin Schneider
Update: I think Karl Rove might be a “Campaign Trail” podcast enthusiast. After Hillary won, his surprisingly trite (and, less surprisingly, racially coded) article in The Wall Street Journal made a similar observation:

And Mr. Obama, in his own way, is often as calculating as Mrs. Clinton. For example, he was the only candidate, Democratic or Republican, to use a teleprompter to deliver his Iowa and New Hampshire election-night speeches. It gave his speeches a quality and clarity that other candidates, speaking from notes or the heart, failed to achieve. But what he gained in polish, he lost in connection.

—MCS

Benjamin Chambers on the “Best American Essays,” Pt. 2

Just before Christmas I published the comments of Benjamin Chambers, of the top-notch literary website The King’s English, as he daringly attempts to read every single New Yorker essay ever to be singled out in Houghton Mifflin’s “Best American Essays” series (which I first wrote about here). For his next feat, I suspect, he’ll try a record English Channel swim.

Take it away, Benjamin!

My next job was to tackle 1987, from the anthology edited by Annie Dillard: an easy list of only three essays. (One wonders if Dillard didn’t care for the stuff The New Yorker did; or if she felt obliged to go against the grain, figuring that it was better to take notice of material in other, lesser known venues; or—possibly?—The New Yorker itself was having an off year? It’s interesting that when Geoffrey Wolff edited the anthology the next year, he felt 10 NYer pieces were notable (though he didn’t select any for “best of” status). What’s odd about that, though, is that he included some very weak pieces, including one by Veronica Geng that’s actually fiction. (The Complete NYer‘s index lists Geng’s piece that way, too, but it’s not infallible, as for example when it inexplicably classifies as fiction Susan Sontag’s autobiographical essay, “Pilgrimage,” which appears on Dillard’s 1987 list.)

Actually, I cheated and started out my 1987 reading by jumping ahead to 1988 and reading Joan Didion’s “Letter from Los Angeles,” which starts out shapeless but pleasing, and then turns into an acute report on the writers’ strike that had just recently fizzled out. Given the strike that’s currently going on, it was particularly timely. Then I went back to 1987, and read E.J. Kahn Jr.’s delightful profile of Helen Suzman, who was for many years the only woman in the all-white House of Assembly of the Republic of South Africa, and an internationally known opponent of apartheid. I’d never heard of Suzman, and came away feeling great admiration for her feistiness. At the time, of course, she didn’t feel very successful—she’d spent years being the only voice in opposition—but again, to read the profile after the nearly bloodless end of apartheid gave it a special flavor. (This profile led me to Wikipedia, where I found a link to an article in the Telegraph from 2004, where she had some reservations about the way current politics are working out there, although none whatever about the abolition of apartheid.)

I’ve never had much use for Harold Brodkey’s work, but in truth I’ve not read much of him, so I approached “Reflections: Family” with qualified hopes. Unfortunately, they proved unfounded—as with E.J. Kahn’s “Hand to Hand” from 1988, the size of audience that could be interested in the piece would seem to be quite limited—in Brodkey’s case, to his own family, as the essay amounts to a collection of observations about their broad experiences and personalities. The piece’s charm would’ve grown in inverse proportion to its length. Kahn’s “Hand to Hand” records in excruciating detail the sinking of a U-Boat by a U.S. craft during World War II, the latter-day reunion of men on both sides of the battle. Though a promising premise, it feels more like a war story fit for other veterans of that war, rather than a general-interest piece—at least at this distance.

That’s curious about the Geng piece. I wonder if that choice elicited any commentary at the time? Anybody know?

—Martin Schneider

Previously: Chambers on the “Best American Essays,” Pt. 1

The New Yorker and Excel Work So Well Together

The Millions has just posted a really juicy spreadsheet that a teacher named Frank Kovarik sent in. It’s got basic information on every short story that has appeared in The New Yorker since 2003. I salute Kovarik for his industry and public-spiritedness! I also use Excel to make sense of The Complete New Yorker‘s vastness. Indeed, I think those two just might be the new PB&J, the new franks and beans, the new vodka and tonic. It’s possible I overstate.
I’m sure I’ll have more to say about this data, but I hope that Kovarik elucidates the meaning of the “Rating” column. I suspect it refers to his own personal opinion of the story, on a scale from 1 to 10. If that guess is correct, he sure doesn’t like Roberto Bolaño!
One aspect of this information that has already gotten some attention is the statistics on gender. Obviously, The Complete New Yorker permits comparison across eras, so that’s something I’d like to look into soon. —Martin Schneider