Now he said, "You've taken away her language. She'll tough it out. But you've taken away her language." I rather hoped I had. It seemed to me, looking back, that I had been pretty loyal to The New Yorker; defending—out of conviction, certainly, but all the same—the magazine and its writers (Hannah Arendt, John Updike, Donald Barthelme), attacking those whom it regarded as enemies (Herbert Gold, Tom Wolfe, and a group of hostile critics, in a long piece called "Polemic and the New Reviewers.") I
