New York Times Modern Love: Losing My Appetite
Ominous sign of missing quality - this week's link comes unadorned:
My Dinners With Andrew (New York Times)
Apparently, after last week's lovely Dan Savage piece (my favorite instance of, "Am I reading the right newspaper?"), the Times editors figured that us viewers had exceeded our satisfaction quotas for the month and decided it necessary this time to lay a big turd for a column. Sara Pepitone is back, inciting the rage of freelancers everywhere who are starving while awaiting the chance to excoriate their ex-partners in the Paper of Record. Sara's last effort, to summarize, was a piece about learning of your significant other's impending work termination - to her credit, it was a much more interesting piece than that description made it sound. This time, though, we witness her compare an old flame to a new date, watch the new date go awry, and...
Well, there's nothing else to it, really. And, this time, it is less interesting than it sounds in summary.
The article is mostly about Andrew. She dated Andrew, she loved Andrew, she lost Andrew, and she cries about Andrew at dinner with a supportive but not-Andrew gentleman. Food and restaurant service is prominently involved as a device symbolizing emotional connection and comfort, but I cynically believe that it's only because Sara has a cookbook coming out soon. It says so in the byline! Gotta love those freelance essayists; the piece is always the means to an end, never a goal in and of itself. (And you wonder why magazines eschew essays for service pieces as of late.)
In case you think I'm being harsh in my criticsm about the commercialism of this piece:
The food promotion extends to the Times' dining reviews itself! I didn't know they felt it necessary to pimp themselves in their own paper to keep people interested. Perhaps it would have been a tasteful editorial choice to leave out the name of the newspaper and reference the reviews obliquely? After all, this sort of self-back-patting is more like something the Post would do.
The emotions expressed in the column are rather standard - they are not extraordinary, but are at least sincere and untarnished by hubris. I would think the Times would rise above schmaltz, but in the end I appreciate humility in a column where it comes rarely.
My final analysis is to see how this column represents the theme of Modern Love, and how it reflects romance and interpersonal relationships in this day and age, and the message is this: We are all yuppies who don't have time to cook for ourselves. Ms. Pepitone seems to have dust gathering on the pots in her kitchen, because her intimate moments all come in public restaurants. That's the "modern" spin here. What ever happened to eating at home? It makes me nostalgic for the old days, when bonds came from shared meals at the dining room table. Perhaps Ms. Pepitone would find more success in her personal relationships if she learned how to cook!
(The same goes for Andrew. Back down, feminists.)
My Dinners With Andrew (New York Times)
Apparently, after last week's lovely Dan Savage piece (my favorite instance of, "Am I reading the right newspaper?"), the Times editors figured that us viewers had exceeded our satisfaction quotas for the month and decided it necessary this time to lay a big turd for a column. Sara Pepitone is back, inciting the rage of freelancers everywhere who are starving while awaiting the chance to excoriate their ex-partners in the Paper of Record. Sara's last effort, to summarize, was a piece about learning of your significant other's impending work termination - to her credit, it was a much more interesting piece than that description made it sound. This time, though, we witness her compare an old flame to a new date, watch the new date go awry, and...
Well, there's nothing else to it, really. And, this time, it is less interesting than it sounds in summary.
The article is mostly about Andrew. She dated Andrew, she loved Andrew, she lost Andrew, and she cries about Andrew at dinner with a supportive but not-Andrew gentleman. Food and restaurant service is prominently involved as a device symbolizing emotional connection and comfort, but I cynically believe that it's only because Sara has a cookbook coming out soon. It says so in the byline! Gotta love those freelance essayists; the piece is always the means to an end, never a goal in and of itself. (And you wonder why magazines eschew essays for service pieces as of late.)
In case you think I'm being harsh in my criticsm about the commercialism of this piece:
Later we realized the other place reviewed in The Times
The food promotion extends to the Times' dining reviews itself! I didn't know they felt it necessary to pimp themselves in their own paper to keep people interested. Perhaps it would have been a tasteful editorial choice to leave out the name of the newspaper and reference the reviews obliquely? After all, this sort of self-back-patting is more like something the Post would do.
The emotions expressed in the column are rather standard - they are not extraordinary, but are at least sincere and untarnished by hubris. I would think the Times would rise above schmaltz, but in the end I appreciate humility in a column where it comes rarely.
My final analysis is to see how this column represents the theme of Modern Love, and how it reflects romance and interpersonal relationships in this day and age, and the message is this: We are all yuppies who don't have time to cook for ourselves. Ms. Pepitone seems to have dust gathering on the pots in her kitchen, because her intimate moments all come in public restaurants. That's the "modern" spin here. What ever happened to eating at home? It makes me nostalgic for the old days, when bonds came from shared meals at the dining room table. Perhaps Ms. Pepitone would find more success in her personal relationships if she learned how to cook!
(The same goes for Andrew. Back down, feminists.)
posted by Brian Van at
8:30 AM
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