New York Magazine - 02.03.2020

(Chris Devlin) #1
MARCH 2–15, 2020 | THE CUT 23

Parul Sehgal is a book critic at the
New YorkTimes. She’s known for
her clear-eyed, razor-sharp reviews,
such as her recent dissection of the
controversial novelAmerican Dirt. Before
joining theTimesin2012, she was
books editor for NPR. Sehgal has lived
in India, Hungary, the Philippines, and
Canada and now resides in Fort Greene
with her daughter and husband.
Here’s how she gets it done.

On a typical morning:
I usually go to bed around 3 or 4 a.m.
I have a 3-year-old daughter, so I need those
unbroken hours to trick myself into thinking
and reading. My husband handles the
morning with my daughter. I emerge after
about five hours of sleep, like a character
stumbling onstage in a Eugene O’Neill play.
There are simmering resentments and
tantrums and dance parties. I don’t really eat
breakfast; I nibble. I get people out the door,
walk the dog, and then, on my best days,
I’m able to plunge back into whatever I was
reading or writing the night before. A few
days a week, I take a two-hour walk to
work at the Times Building from Brooklyn.
I love looking at people, looking at what
they’re wearing.

On her reviewing process:
Every week, I have a different book to
review, and I typically read books I’m
reviewing in one sitting, hence my mad
midnight schedule. I also want to be able to
reread the book and to dip into the author’s
other work, which means I’m probably
reading a book a day or every two days. Some
weeks, it’s an author I’ve read, but there are
a lot of times where I’m coming fresh to a
writer or an entire discipline. I try to research
for as long as I can, because then I don’t have
to write. I don’t bail on books very often—
there might have been one or two in the last
few years. But I’ll frequently have to review
something that turns out to be a drag.
What do I do? Whinge and moan. Snack.
Give myself small bribes.

On organized chaos:
I’m always amazed that people have
strong feelings about things like pens or
the right notebook. I’ll happily write a first
yon. I’ve written drafts of
eceipts. Just however it gets
done. These are the circumstances of life
raising a child without a ton of
child care.

I have my bookshelves organized in a
very draconian system, alphabetically and
by genre. But I write in books. I dog-ear
them. I drop them in the bath. I like the
way that certain really loved books show
the life creeping in—like when there are
little coffee rings.

On the work of a critic:
I don’t think about criticism in terms
of authority. I think about it in terms of
charm and persuasion, which anybody
can possess. Your authority is in your
sentences, in your lede, in how attractive
your own prose is. To be a critic is to say,
“Try sitting next to me.” That’s the
conspiratorial nature of criticism. If you
love particular critics, it always feels like
they’re talking to you.

On staying out of literary drama:
To do this work, you have to be kind of
monkish. Book reviewing involves a time
commitment that reviewing film and music
just doesn’t impose on a critic. I love gossip,
but even if the backstory is fantastic, or
there’s some very juicy impolitic statements
that the writer has uttered, the work is
always so much richer. It helps that most of
my friends aren’t writers. If someone is
glaring at me at a party, it’s not usually
because of a review.

On motherhood:
I don’t know what I thought motherhood
would be like. I thought it would feel
honorable to do it, but I didn’t think it
would be interesting. I was very serious
before my daughter showed up. And now
I play a lot. I do dress-up and a shocking
amount of tea parties. My daughter is this
absolutely anarchic person; she’s
interesting and strange and very rude and
great fun to chat with. I think we could all
benefit from painting and dancing and
singing. Which I do now, with her, although
subject to her withering reviews.

FEED

TheBelt
If a choker-length
chain isn’t enough,
try a belt. You can use
as
ou
have to do is believe.

The Ladies
Who Lunch
A camel turtleneck plus
a single string of pearls
will make you look like
a chic granny. To make
even more of an impact,
layer multiple
pearl necklaces on top
of one another.

The Tony
Soprano
Wearing a black
turtleneck with a
leather jacket and
a gold chain is
very Cosa Nostra.

Styling Tips I Borrowed
From the Rock

BySarah Spellings

if you’re reading this in the North-
ern Hemisphere, there’s a decent chance
you’re wearing a turtleneck right now. And
you may be getting tired of it. You can do only
so muchLove Actually cosplay before you’re
itching for something new. Why not decorate
your turtleneck? The obvious way is with a
necklace, a trick that has been used by everyone
from Gucci Mane to Joyce Carol Oates to the
Rock. But there’s another level: Take a cue from
the Schiaparelli 2020 haute couture show,
where the jewelry wasn’t an afterthought but
the main event. Even if you don’t have access to
couture jewelry, you can still adorn your neck
like a Christmas tree.

TURTLENECKS

PHOTOGRAPHS: THEROCK/TWITTER (THE ROCK); REIGNOFDYNASTY/INSTAGRAM (PEARLS); EMILIAPETRARCA/INSTAGRAM (LEATHER AND BOW)


Illustration by LAUREN TAMAKI


By Bridget Read

How I Get It Done:

Parul Sehgal, Book Critic
Free download pdf