Maura Mahoney

So. You’ve dreamed up “a kinder, gender nation,” “a thousand points of light,” and “a shining City on a Hill”; written a wry memoir of your days as a Reagan/Bush speechwriter, with just enough skewering of the easy targets (Nancy, Don Regan) and ironic detachment ...

In the early 1980s, wracked by the ennui of yet another high-priced Manhattan veal-and-radicchio dinner, Esquire columnist John Berendt turned his eye to the South and began spending his disposable income on supersaver fares to Savannah, Georgia, instead. Captivated by the ...

So you’ve just completed the inevitable arc from derision to interest to all-out consumer craving over bell-bottoms, and now a new, or rather, a renewed trend has reared up along the ever-jagged cutting edge. And worse, this latest expression of the herd—oops, ...

The world’s only negative review of The Secret History by twenty-something superstar Donna Tartt, Knopf, 524 pages. I’m Nobody! / Who are you? / Are you Nobody — too? / Then there’s a pair of us? / Don’t tell—they’d advertise—you know! / How dreary to be Somebody ...