Catching up on old New Yorkers, I must note the return of Roger Angell, the magazine's longtime fiction editor and chronicler-extraordinaire of baseball, who had his first full story in about 15 months in the Nov. 30 edition. As usual, it recapped the postseason, which this year featured the Yankees' first World Series win since 2000.
All one needs to like Angell's writing about baseball is an appreciation of wonderful sunny days and brisk fall nights, where both seem like the perfect settings for running across a field or sitting in the stands and taking in the twilight, and an appreciation of language that never fails to describe it all delicately and effortlessly. Nothing happens and no player appears in Angell's prose without a well-chosen adjective. Some of the latest examples from this story: "the same Dorothea Lange expression"; "a soggy loss"; "Chase Utley, the classy Philadelphia second baseman"; "that almond-colored bat held still." Liking baseball is helpful but not required to enjoy Angell's work. In fact, Angell's writing might make you a baseball fan even if you think you don't like it. I easily forget his tolerance of the Yankees, though, based on the above photo, he appears to be a Mets fan too. Perhaps he just loves life.
His stories are becoming all the more precious these days because, at 89 years old, he may not be around to write them much longer. The stepson of E.B. White, raised in the New Yorker's offices and a staff writer since 1944, he is the most iconic, full-blooded (blue-blooded?) New Yorker New Yorker in my mind, and it's always a pleasure to see that he's still typing on his keys.
No comments:
Post a Comment