About a month ago, I emailed Ellen Willis. We had a loose plan to do a brief Q&A on the New Yorker website about her fifty-four columns, a body of work which is at the top of my Unacknowldged Hot Shit list. When we corresponded, briefly, she gave no indication that her illness existed, or was so advanced. And who would? But I wish that she had, even in code. This is a poor substitute for a real conversation with the living person.
When I was hired in 2004, I asked her out to lunch, hoping she would tell me about her time at the magazine. We had that lunch, and she did. I wish I had recorded that conversation, and that all of us had the chance to ask her some follow-up questions.
Whatever that Complete New Yorker Hard Drive costs, her forty-nine otherwise unavailable essays make it worth the outlay.Posted by Sasha at November 11, 2006 10:54 PM | TrackBack