Starred review from June 28, 2010
Remnick's thoughtfully curated selection of New Yorker essays spans the gamut of the sports conversation. From sketches of Tiger Woods to contemplations of the branding prowess of Michael Jordan to examinations of how "the choke" differs from panic, Remnick's choices display a deep affinity for a variety of sports and an understanding of their importance in the modern discourse. The essays, written by wildly different authors ranging from Henry Louis Gates Jr. to Malcolm Gladwell, make for an enjoyably diverse reading experience. While readers may not be fans of a particular sport or athlete, the essays are universal; covering decades of sports writing, they speak to certain ineffable qualities of athletics and explore every facet of the games we play. This anthology represents a great variety of what The New Yorker has to offer and is an excellent way to pass the time between games.
May 15, 2010
David Remnick, editor of the New Yorker, never explains in his introduction what prompted him to pull together this dazzling collection of 32 sports pieces from the magazine, nor in the end does he need to. They justify themselves, dating from Ring Lardners 1930 take on juiced-up baseballs to 2008 pieces by Anthony Lane and Haruki Murakami on the Beijing Olympics and running, respectively. Theres a fine, multidimensional quality to these pieces, from Malcolm Gladwells thoughtful reflection on the phenomenon of choking in sport (2000) to Henry Lewis Gates shrewd study of Michael Jordan, athlete and marketing powerhouse (1998). Other articles include John Updikes iconic piece on Ted Williams final home game (1960), Bill Barichs paean to horse racing (1980), and Susan Orleans neat profile on Iditarod champion Susan Butcher (1987). Bonus: a liberal sprinkling of sports-related cartoons from the magazine.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2010, American Library Association.)
June 28, 2010
Drawing from and expanding on spiritual themes and environmental concerns addressed in his 1995 book The Spell of the Sensuous, ecologist and philosopher (and practicing magician) Abram decries mankind’s treatment of, and callous disregard for, the world. Though his prose often veers into the opaque, the author’s message is clear: people are overly estranged from the land and increasingly incapable of acknowledging the symbiosis and reciprocity between their bodies and the earth. Travel across land by car or over land by air insulates man from the “enlivening pleasure” of contact with the world, a physical and emotional distance made worse by a vanishing oral culture of storytelling and a modern-day reliance on the Internet that short-circuits the link “between our senses and the sensuous earth.” Abram’s perception of the world as a living, breathing entity, where gravity is erotic, light has an audible quality, shadows possess volume and man ought to be “embedded carnally” with nature might be improbably abstract for many. But his poetic plea for awareness of the world’s needs will strike a resonant chord with most.