New Criterion
"You would have thought that to pry open the gatefold to
The Complete New Yorker was to enter the forbidden tomb from which no man or woman returns," writes
James Wolcott. He eventually inserted the CDs into his laptop and "I found myself lured into a Borgesian labyrinth of interlocking chambers, spiral stairs, and odd detours that unearthed archeological finds wherever the links led. Daylight disappeared as I descended into permanent dusk, the thumbnail covers of The New Yorker instilling a nostalgia for a time I had never known."
