Through the Children's Gate: A Home in New York

From the Publisher

"A wonder of a writer. . . . The very model of urbanity: frankly, unsentimentally, wisely enchanted." —Los Angeles Times“In the same way that Woody Allen and E.B. White slipped a permanent lens on New York so that no one will ever again be able to experience it without filtering it through their vision, Gopnik has captured and redefined our first and best city.” —Chicago Sun-Times “A love song to Manhattan. . . . As in his Paris memoir, Gopnik explores the city through the wondrous, exhausting and often hilarious scrim of parenting.” —San Francisco Chronicle“Brilliant . . . How can you not love Adam Gopnik?” —Seattle Post-Intelligencer

John Leland

His results are always impressive, sometimes precious, more allusive than engrossing—and eminently recyclable, especially if you travel within the circle whose tics he chronicles and mimics…Some set pieces may seem dated, like the yoga moms or the battles for taxis, but this is only because glossy magazines have moved on, not because New Yorkers have; real moms still downward dog and steal your cab.
—The New York Times

Publishers Weekly

Back from living in Paris with his wife and two kids, as chronicled charmingly in Paris to the Moon, Gopnik, a writer for the New Yorker, records in his tidy, writerly and obsessive fashion his family's relocation to the city of his earliest professional aspiration: New York. No longer the grim, decrepit hell of the 1970s, New York of the new century has become a children's city, infused by a "new paternal feeling," and doting father Gopnik is delighted to walk through the Children's Gate of Central Park to relive the romance of childhood. His 20 various essays meander over topics dear to the hearts of New York parents, such as learning to be appropriately Jewish ("A Purim Story"); working with the ad hoc committee called Artists and Anglers at his son's hypercaring private school, on methods of flight for the production of Peter Pan; and his four-year-old daughter's imaginary playmate, Charlie Ravioli, who is simply too booked to play with her. The less structured series of essays on Thanksgiving are most pleasing and read like diaries, ranging from the rage over noise to the safety of riding buses. Gopnik conveys in his mannered, occasionally gilded prose that New York still represents a kind of childlike hope "for something big to happen." 150,000 copy first printing. (Oct.) Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.

Library Journal

Gopnik (The New Yorker) picks up where he left off in Paris to the Moon, with his family's move from Paris back to New York City in 2000. From touching and poignant stories of the post-9/11 city to the amusing anecdotes that arise from child rearing in this one-of-a-kind environment, Gopnik's accounts explore the wide array of life in the city. The reader can lament the decline of department stores and the changes in Times Square, hunt for the elusive perfect New York City apartment, treasure the unfolding of the city through the eyes of children, laugh at the absurdities of imaginary friends and the city's social scene, and explore the art and music that are part of the city's fabric. This collection of humorous and sentimental essays, which show modern New York City as both a home and a playground, comprises many previously published articles from The New Yorker but will be welcome as a collection by readers who enjoyed Paris to the Moon. Recommended for public libraries. [See Prepub Alert, LJ 6/1/06.] Sheila Kasperek, Mansfield Univ. Lib., PA Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.