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Rating: 
Summary: Here's proof E. B. White had to work for a living.
Review: "Writings from the New Yorker" is a poorly organized commercial re-packaging of E. B. White snippets banged-out under the pressures of deadlines in the work-a-day world. In spite of my respect for the man and my love of his more carefully crafted writings, this book sputtered and stalled as I read along. But E. B. White does manage to shine through this collection in spite of its hodge-podginess and your reward for plowing through it will be the discovery of a gem here and there. Were he still with us, White himself would likely have a field day editing this book, tossing out stuff. For one thing, his editors made him use "we" instead of "I" in these unsigned pieces which he objected to and which makes you wonder just how "handcuffed" he was in other unspoken ways as he wrote them. If you're an E. B. White groupie who simply must read everything White has ever written, buy this book. Otherwise--save your money.
Rating:
Summary: Here's proof E. B. White had to work for a living.
Review: "Writings from the New Yorker" is a poorly organized commercial re-packaging of E. B. White snippets banged-out under the pressures of deadlines in the work-a-day world. In spite of my respect for the man and my love of his more carefully crafted writings, this book sputtered and stalled as I read along. But E. B. White does manage to shine through this collection in spite of its hodge-podginess and your reward for plowing through it will be the discovery of a gem here and there. Were he still with us, White himself would likely have a field day editing this book, tossing out stuff. For one thing, his editors made him use "we" instead of "I" in these unsigned pieces which he objected to and which makes you wonder just how "handcuffed" he was in other unspoken ways as he wrote them. If you're an E. B. White groupie who simply must read everything White has ever written, buy this book. Otherwise--save your money.
Rating:
Summary: An odd collection of White's mediocre, dated, small pieces
Review: I can't think of a book or collection of EB White's writing to which I wouldn't give high praise. Here, the writing is good (of course, it always is) but that the collection was put together by someone not in the writer's family or intimate (editorial) circle may explain why it seems a bit void of that quintessential EB White spirit. Understand, these are not essays or letters. These, for the most part, are very short pieces, most of which ran in The New Yorker as short, witty fillers or, as that genteel set liked to refer to them, "occasionals." Some, because they were written many decades ago ('30s and '40s) are dated. Some references or phrases are left unexplained, leaving this reader stumped. If you want to read classic EB White, aside form his children's classics, I recommend his "Essays" and "Letters," and "The Second Tree from the Corner." THESE are classics. This collection, on the other hand, demonstrates that, while EB White was always a top-notch writer, even the best have their mediocre days.
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