Lawrence Wright on Liebling’s Classic Portrait of Texas | The Great State

A.J. ⁣Liebling:‍ The New Yorker‘s Unlikely Champion of Nuance‍ adn ⁣a Lasting Legacy in Journalism

A.J. Liebling wasn’t a man of tidy habits. He ⁢was nearsighted, battled gout, and reportedly used ⁢a strip of bacon as a bookmark. Yet, this seemingly ‍disheveled figure remains a⁢ towering influence on generations of journalists, a testament to the power of insightful reporting and a distinctly personal voice.Liebling’s work, primarily for The New Yorker, wasn’t just about what happened, but how it felt, and why it mattered.

Liebling held strong opinions. He famously equated dieting with a potential global catastrophe, quipping that⁢ “skim milk, ‍Melba ⁢toast, and mineral oil ⁢on the salad” could trigger a ⁤world cataclysm. This wasn’t mere contrarianism; it reflected a deep skepticism ‍towards superficiality and a preference for the authentic, a theme that permeated his writing.

He⁢ took the helm of The Wayward Press at‍ The New⁢ Yorker, a column dedicated to scrutinizing the press itself.‍ Liebling saw journalism as a vital, yet frequently enough flawed, pillar of democracy – “the weak slat under the bed of democracy,” as he put it.⁤ Despite his personal struggles,his reporting during D-Day and the liberation of Paris earned him the French Legion of ‍Honor,a recognition of his courage and commitment.

But Liebling’s true gift lay in his ability to bring characters to life. He didn’t just report on people; he ‍immersed himself in their worlds, capturing their essence with remarkable detail and empathy. This talent reached its peak in his three-part profile⁢ of Louisiana Governor Earl Long, initially published as “The Great State” and later compiled into ⁢the acclaimed book, “The Earl of louisiana.”

Liebling initially ⁢approached Long with skepticism, expecting to find a typical Southern demagogue. though, he quickly realized Long was a far more complex figure. He was witnessing a civil rights speech disguised as ⁢populist rhetoric. Long ⁢was actively challenging laws designed to disenfranchise Black voters, ⁤a progressive stance in a deeply conservative era. Liebling’s insightful coverage transcended mere political reporting; it revealed a nuanced understanding ⁤of power, race, and the complexities of the American South.

This profile profoundly impacted many young journalists, myself⁣ included.Published in ⁤1960,Liebling’s work inspired me to attend Tulane University in New Orleans,drawn by his vivid portrayal of the city. It also solidified The New⁢ Yorker as my aspirational professional home. He represented a model of journalism that blended ⁢rigorous scholarship with a relatable, human voice.

Liebling wasn’t afraid to be opinionated.He was famously critical of Chicago, describing it after dark as a “vast, anonymous pulp” and a “small⁤ city of the ‍rich…surrounded by a large expanse of juxtaposed dimnesses.” ‍He could be ⁣merciless towards ⁢intellectual pretension, yet he consistently portrayed everyday people with warmth and respect.

His legacy⁣ extends ⁢beyond specific articles. A poster in my office displays Liebling’s stark warning: “Freedom of the press is guaranteed only to those who ‍own one.” It’s a potent reminder of the ⁢importance of autonomous⁣ journalism and the constant need ⁣to ⁢safeguard the principles of a free press.

A.J. Liebling wasn’t just a ‍journalist; he was a cultural observer, a stylist, and a voice of conscience. His work continues to resonate today, reminding us that the best‍ journalism is ⁢both insightful ⁤and humane, and that true understanding requires⁣ looking beyond the surface.