Slow pitch to the lefty slugger
Leon Wieseltier of the New Republic quotes Gerald Marzorati, the editor of the New York Times Magazine, who was recently asked if his magazine has an ideology. Marzorati answered yes, and then explained:
Call it Urban Modern. That is, I think it reflects not a left-or-right POLITICAL ideology but a geographical one, the mentality of the place it is created: 21st Century Manhattan. So: the Magazine reflects a place where women have professional ambition, where immigrants are welcome, and where gays and lesbians can be themselves (if not marry, yet). The Magazine also reflects a place where being rich is not a bad thing, where fashion is not a sign of superficiality, and where individualism is embraced. Here, arguing is not bad manners. Here, a chief way of loving your hometown is criticizing it: For, say, not doing enough for those (children, the poor, the homeless) who are most vulnerable. Here, art is never spoken of in moral terms, and most aspects of everyday life–food and drink and bathroom fixtures–are mostly spoken of in aesthetic terms. And here, as E.B. White famously wrote, it tends to be those who come from elsewhere full of longing who make the place what it is. More generally, we reflect a place where change is not a threat, where doubt and complexity are more TRUE than certainty, and where most everything non-criminal is tolerated–except a bad haircut.
Wieseltier’s response to this is both predictable and satisfying:
[W]hat is being celebrated here is the ideology of no ideology–the ascendancy of the Nora Ephron view of the world, which may be succinctly described as “food and drink and bathroom fixtures.” What moves such a heart most (aside from children, the poor, and the homeless) are amenities and trivialities. The conferring of importance upon the unimportant, and of unimportance upon the important: this is a mark of decadence, the cognitive inversion of people who live “mostly in aesthetic terms” because they have secured themselves materially–or so they would like to believe—against philosophy and pain. They live for lightness and distraction. Their laughter is the sound of luck. They acquit themselves of their intellectual obligations with opinions. The anxiety that arguing may be bad manners is plausibly held by someone whose primary arena of political action may be the dinner party. (Darling, were we wrong about Obama?) [...] [W]hen Marzorati jauntily protests that in Manhattan being rich is not a bad thing, it has the effect of concealing that in Manhattan being poor is a bad thing. That is how high spirits work in hard times. And what is so terrifying about seriousness, anyway? I like to think of it as nothing more than proof of consciousness. Happy is the man whose worst misfortune is a bad haircut, but no such man lives.
Thank you for posing this. I’ve had difficulty putting into words the sense of alienation I’ve got over the last couple of years with regard to the NY Times Sunday Magazine. Now I know what my problem with it is…
Ouch, babe. But in the spirit of sticking up for the poor guy who just watched his hanging slider sail over the wall, Marzorati presumably depends upon restaurants, hair establishments and emporiums of bathroom fixtures for his ad revenue.
Captures my experience of New York perfectly. Finally, I have a reasonable explanation for why, how, and the way my two female bosses from Manhattan live, manage, and make our lives miserable for no apparent reason.
Here’s my favorite NYT Magazine story, while we’re on the subject. A couple summers ago, I was spending a lazy summer weekend with my sister and her family, and Sunday found me diffidently picking through the NYT. My then-four-year-old nephew came upon me just as I was getting to the magazine. The cover story was about recent advances in robotics, and my nephew looked at the magazine and then at me and said: “If it’s not interesting, why does it have a robot on it?”
I’m guessing he had already had a conversation with another adult about this (“Will you read me that story?” “Oh, you won’t think it’s interesting…”), but I prefer to imagine he was spontaneously pronouncing on the quality of the NYT magazine’s journalism vs. the promise of its packaging. I realized that I often make my way through a story in that publication only to be annoyed that it left me so unsatisfied. In other words, he was right. So I put the magazine down and went and played with him. (In fact, as I recall, we played baseball.)
I know my values are probably not very Urban Modern, but what can I do…
My experience with the NY Times Magazine fits with that of Fr. Komonchak and Bill DeHass. Its advertising is especially decadent. If the magazine is what passes for an expression of a mature liberal attitude concerning what life’s about, count me out, way out!
It is a comfort to hear that others agree about the unsatisfactory quality of the NYT Sunday magazine. There is a contemptuous attitude toward the human beings treated in its articles and toward the readership as well that is quite unsettling. The photographs are often cruel, the ads–well I agree with Bernard Dauenhauer–decadent is not too strong a word.
Bravo Wieseltier, well said! Here on the west coast we have a rather weak version of the NYT in the Los Angeles Times. It tries hard to emulate the NYT, but with limited success.
But the same kind of analysis holds. That’s why I celebrate my unhipness, and thank God that I escaped that madness.
I rarely see the NYT Magazine, but the above post and comments pretty well describe my reaction when I have occasion to read Vanity Fair.
Funny, but I don’t feel that same way about the Washington Post Magazine, which I do read regularly (though the regular feature “Date Lab” always makes me glad I’m married).
It’s been a while since I’ve read anything in the NYT Magazine apart from Safire’s column on language, the crossword, and the acrostic puzzle. I particularly agree with Susan Gannon about the photographs, whether in stories or in ads.
Of course, the Magazine isn’t anti[spiritual ma;tters. Didn’t it do an article on the Church of Crafts? (Those beievers get together Sunday mornings to make craft things, each doing his/her own little project, e.g., a little figure of Charlie Chaplin.) Chartres has nothing on NYC.
I think it’s right to say that the Times isn’t necessarily politically left, at least in terms of the lifestyle “values” espoused in the quotation above. When I worked at an investment bank (not as a banker) the self-professed conservatives were indistinguishable from the kind of person described above.
Also, I think the whole Times establishment reeks of the “no-ideology” ideology.
I have to admit, as a “self-professed” conservative that this internecine liberal conflict is kind of funny.
Each of these guys is a poster child for one of the two faces of the sterotypical Bi-Coastal Intellectual Elite Liberal.
On the one hand you have the classic Limousine Liberal. I love this bit -
“Here, a chief way of loving your hometown is criticizing it: For, say, not doing enough for those (children, the poor, the homeless) who are most vulnerable.”
How terribly nobel.
On the other we have the typical Serious Intellectual Liberal.
“They acquit themselves of their intellectual obligations with opinions. The anxiety that arguing may be bad manners is plausibly held by someone whose primary arena of political action may be the dinner party.”
This is serious damn it – we are taking action – we are making a difference – buy carbon credits – vote Obama!
I really appreciate the insight into the NYT magazine. I live in Pa, but I buy the NYT every Sunday(it’s beginning to cost a second mortage). In the magazine, I read Safire’s column first and the article on the last page which I usually enjoy. I, then, look at the crossword puzzle and become frustated because I know Bobby Nunz finished it, and I’ll get only about six answers. I, then, give it to my wife who looks at the recipe, and says,” there is something else we’ll never eat”, however, I do enjoy the paper and will continue to have as part of my Sunday ritual. Habits are hard to break, and maybe I don’t want to break it.