being the critic's critic would be the easiest job ever
The New Yorker has entered a swirling nexus of redundancy. It is one of the last reliable outlets for literary criticism, and they have decided to exhume a classic that is more often revered than any work. I concede that translation is imperative in regards to foreign literature; so when I saw there was a piece on the new translation of Tolstoy's War and Peace, I understood why. However, it took up the entire review section. James Wood's review of War and Peace was comparable in length to War and Peace! There are plenty of modern authors churning out great fiction (Ahem...Philip Roth's Exit Ghost) that is worthy of review. We don't need to squeeze novella-size reviews of well established classics into The New Yorker; one of the few places of refuge for critics. And might I add that Mr. Wood failed to mention the new translation's worth...it was simply a review of a story we all know. If anything, this should be mentioned in the "briefly noted" section.