Philip BerrollLiterature Al Capone, Al Jolson, Apocalypse Now, Barbara Walters, Barry Gray, Berroll, Carl Bernstein, Dispatches, Ed Sullivan, Eddie Murphy, Entertainment Tonight, Full Metal Jacket, German reunification, Godot, gossip industry, Helmsley, Herr, infanticipating, Ivana Trump, Jazz Age, John O'Hara, John Rankin, Josephine Baker, Journal-American, Joyce Haber, Kramer vs. Kramer, Leonard Lyons, Liz Smith, McKelway, Mother Teresa, Mr and Mrs America, organized crime, Pal Joey, People, phfft, red-baiters, Robert Benton, Rona Barrett, Roy Cohn, Runyon, Sherman Billingsley, Stork Club, The Ear, The New Yorker, The Untouchables, Tikkun, William Randolph Hearst, Winchell, Woolcott, Zola
Fifty years ago, The NewYorker devoted an unprecedented six issues to a profile of Walter Winchell – actually, it was more of an attack – by the essayist St.Clair McKelway. It was later published in book form. On the surface, this seems absurd. Winchell was not an artist, a statesman (except perhaps in his own mind), or a philosopher. He was a "reporter" and "broadcaster" in the very loosest sense – his words appeared in a newspaper, and he spoke into a microphone. But much of what he said and wrote had been given to him by others, and most of it was hardly profound – a potpourri of news "flashes," jokes, capsule reviews, political commentary, and above all, gossip about celebrities of the day.
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