This week The New Yorker is home to a piece by noted author Jonathan Franzen on birdwatching, environmentalism, global warming, and, um, his love life. No description can do it justice — it really is an extraordinary piece of writing, weaving together personal history, acute political and sociological observation, ornithological detail, and an elegiac tone, with effortless grace.
As usual when I encounter stuff like this, I feel admiration and naked envy in roughly equal measure.
It isn’t available online yet — not sure if it will be — but it’s worth buying the magazine to read it. If I can track down an electronic copy, I’ll paste some excerpts.
