Nora Ephron: an artist of consolation
While I enjoyed the wit and warmth of her movies, Sleepless in Seattle, and When Harry Met Sally, it was her writing that I truly adored. As Ariel Levy, remembering her in a piece for the the New Yorker writes, she was “an artist of consolation….her voice was “funny, frank, self-effacing but never self-pitying and utterly intimate.”
That’s how bourgeois I am: at the split second I picked up the pie to throw at Mark, at the split second I was about to do the bravest—albeit the most derivative—thing I had ever done in my life, I thought to myself: Thank God the floor is linoleum and can be wiped up.
Nora Ephron, 1941-2012
Read Nora Ephron in The New Yorker archive.