Creative Nonfiction (Course Guide / Lisa Heise)

In her thirty years at The New Yorker Jane Kramer has written shrewd profiles of Italian peasants, Moroccan teenagers, Texas cowboys, German skinheads, New York City artists, and European heads of state. Kramer has written eloquently about the politics of cultural identity--about the human migrations, generational disruptions, counterculture strivings, fading nationalist mythologies, gender wars, battles over artistic representation, and lapses of public memory that have characterized the late twentieth century.| From: American Literary Journalists, 1945-1995: First Series | Gale Literature Resource Center (Library Database)

In appreciation of Kramer's body of work, Pauly declared: "Over three decades she has developed one of the most elegant and distinctive voices in American literary journalism. She has written with depth and sophistication about an extraordinary range of topics. |"Jane Kramer." Gale Literature: Contemporary Authors, Gale, 2018. | Gale Literature Resource Center (Library Database)

"I am a reluctant tourist. Most reporters are. We've been spoiled by the license to pry that comes with the job-and, perhaps, by the illusion of anonymity that working in strange places can produce. Call it a professional deformation. The fact remains that, given the choice between a vacation without a notebook and a revolution with one, most of us would pass on the yellow sundress or the cargo pants and buy a flak jacket." |
New Yorker. 7/23/2012, Vol. 88 Issue 21, p32-35. 4p. 4 | MasterFILE Complete (EBSCO) (Library Database)

"I read cookbooks. I am addicted to them. I keep a pile on the floor of my study in New York, knowing that if I manage to write a couple of decent pages I can treat myself to a $4.50 Chinese lunch special in the company of Richard Olney or Jasper White or Ruth Rogers and Rose Gray, thinking of all the succulent things I would cook for dinner if I didn't have to go back to work in the afternoon. | New Yorker. 9/5/2005, Vol. 81 Issue 26, p142-150. 8p. | MasterFILE Complete (EBSCO) (Library Website)

"Eleven o’clock on a Saturday morning in a field in Gloucestershire. The field is muddy. The hounds and the hunters are getting muddy. The sun hides, pale behind a drizzling November rain. The drink in everybody’s flask is sloe gin. The food of choice seems to be sausage rolls." New Yorker. 1/24/2005, Vol. 80 Issue 44, p70-77. 8p | MasterFILE Complete (EBSCO) (Library Database)