David Remnick
David Remnick
David Remnickis an American journalist, writer, and magazine editor. He won a Pulitzer Prize in 1994 for his book Lenin's Tomb: The Last Days of the Soviet Empire. Remnick has been editor of The New Yorker magazine since 1998. He was named Editor of the Year by Advertising Age in 2000. Before joining The New Yorker, Remnick was a reporter and the Moscow correspondent for The Washington Post. He has also served on the New York Public Library's board of...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionJournalist
Date of Birth29 October 1958
CountryUnited States of America
You know what writers say about their long books: If I had another year, the book would be half as long.
He's an important writer for The New Yorker, in the same way Robert Benchley and S.J. Perelman were important.
If this day means anything, it means that you are now in the contingent of the responsible. You must be kind, yes, but you must also look beyond your own house. We're depending on you for your efforts and your vision. We are depending on your eye and your imagination to identify what wrongs exist and persist, and on your hands, your backs, your efforts, to right them.
I actually have great hopes for the future.
Speaking to the subject is the most overrated thing in journalism,
Clearly independent journalists - domestic journalists - run a high risk if they dare to take on serious investigative work.
Everybody has a cartoon of themselves. Mine is: I write very fast, and I'm ruthlessly efficient with my time.
There is no single field of activity, not a single institution, free of the most brutal sort of corruption. Russia has bred a world-class mafia.
I think dealing with the U.S. Senate is very different from dealing with the electorate.
Russian is such a tough and complex language that I am happy enough to understand everything and read most things pretty well, but, without constant practice, my speech is not what I wish it was, and I would sooner write in crayon than write a letter in Russian.
Not all political prisoners are innocents.
Nature is cold, wet, hard and unforgiving.
I left Gorbachev's office thinking that everything about him was outsized: his achievements, his mistakes, and, now, his vanity and bitterness.
I'm not the slowest writer that you know.