Nicolás Medina Mora
Where Next for Mexico?
June’s presidential election will be a referendum less on the candidates themselves than on Andrés Manuel López Obrador’s ambiguous legacy.
Jerome Groopman
Seeing the Power in Blindness
A writer narrating his increasing loss of vision asks fundamental questions about sight and cognition.
Daisy Hildyard
The Long View
Martin MacInnes’s novel In Ascension reveals the technical sophistication of the newest genre fiction.
Sam Needleman
Games We Play
The Dutch painter Jacqueline de Jong extracts raw drama from scenes of leisure and crime.
Free from the Archives
All eyes are turned to the sun for tomorrow’s solar eclipse, but in the Review’s September 26, 2019, issue, Ingrid Rowland looked into the light of a safer, closer sun: Olafur Eliasson’s The weather project. “No one who saw it has ever forgotten it,” she wrote, “a fat yellow sun hanging inside the colossal Turbine Hall of the Tate Modern gallery, glowing through clouds of swirling mist.”
Ingrid D. Rowland
Filling Our Eyes with Sunshine
“The great sun’s monotone yellow stripped away the other colors, turning everyone and everything into tiny sepia silhouettes. People responded to their transformation in the most extraordinary ways: they lay down flat, flapping their arms and legs as if they could make snow angels on the Tate’s concrete floor, talking to strangers in the mist.”
Special Offer
Subscribe for just $1 an issue
Politics Literature Arts Ideas
You are receiving this message because you signed up
for email newsletters from The New York Review.
Update your address or preferences
View this newsletter online
The New York Review of Books
207 East 32nd Street, New York, NY 10016-6305
