During the postwar years, the quality of the magazine’s political writing was uneven, at best. Michael Straight, who succeeded his mother as owner, simply didn’t have great editorial taste. The New Republic merely attempted to keep up with the news, without much philosophical or literary ambition. (For a time, Straight wanted the magazine to become the left-wing version of Time.) But one of the et
This Is What It Was Like To Be the Book Censor for All of New England in 1930"I’ve read more dirty books than any man in New England." He was a small man, not running much over five feet five, but I was physically very much aware of him. He gave off a confusion of qualities which would have put a dog in ecstasies but which can only puzzle a man. His hair was of that slick black kind—combed like a
Pamuk’s sense of the absurd, and his taste for paradox, enriches a dialogical imagination in which secularists, Islamists, conservatives, liberals, Marxists, and fascists ceaselessly exchange roles as oppressors and victims. His scenarios of insoluble contradiction also anticipated the arrival of mass democratic politics in Turkey and other countries, where conflicts previously suppressed now erup
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