A beautiful issue to commemorate McSweeney's 50th edition since it started in 1998. This is the first issue to be edited by Claire Boyle instead of Dave Eggers, and the last issue in which Eggers provides the introduction in the tiny print of the colophon as has been his tradition. The 50th includes the work of 50 contemporary authors, most of whom are friends of the magazine and have frequently been published by it. More than that though, it includes a little bit of everything McSweeney: a beautiful, creative, quality object, a book jacket that folds out into a gorgeous and touching piece of graphic art, letters from celebrities, humor pieces, essays, and weird little touches like Sarah Manguso's six-sentence story printed on the cover.
I fully expect McSweeney's to last at least another 50 issues as it pushes on with Eggers simply in the role of "Founding Editor" and new captains manning the ship. ( )

I quite liked the idea of fifty contributors for the fiftieth issue, particularly because it meant shorter pieces. A good, fun issue. ( )

As always, McSweeney’s is intelligent without being pretentious, hip without being hipster, and relevant without preaching. The authors and stories it publishes are inclusive, and vary in delightful ways. One minute you’re reading a humorous take on something like office etiquette, and the next you’re touched in some subtle way by something profound or poetic in one of its stories.

Publishing 50 authors for issue #50 was a sweet thought as all are ‘friends’ of the McSweeney’s family, but doing this by definition meant that contributions were be shorter, and I probably would have preferred more that were meatier, as in other issues. On the other hand, some of my favorite pieces were quite short, so what do I know? Quality level was consistently high, and as I read, I got the warm feeling I always get with McSweeney’s. Subscribing is a joy, and I can’t recommend it more.

Favorites:
The letter to the editor from John Hodgman, formerly of the Daily Show, giving the perspective of a 50-something, in part humiliating with his flirt/joking with a young woman (a true lol moment), and in part liberating with the perspective he now has.

‘Thank You for Your Patience’, by Steven Millhauser, with a woman’s mind wandering to dating when younger, and her hidden frustrations with how it worked out, all while being on hold on the phone.

‘Nancy, All Too Nancy’, by Jonathan Lethem, a play on ‘Human, All Too Human’ by Nietzsche in the form of philosophical captions placed under cartoon stills from ‘Nancy’ by Ernie Bushmiller. Brilliant.

‘Before I Met You’, by Sophia Foster-Dimino, a brilliant, sweet short cartoon about those magical dilation of time when you fall in love - my favorite thing in the book.

‘The Lace Shirt’, by Carrie Brownstein, a touching story of growing up awkward, winning a lace top that Cher had worn at a radio show, and having a little bit of secret glam tucked away. Loved.

‘Jordan Teller’, by Sheila Heti, where the effect of a disturbing violation is amplified by how feelings are conflicted, and by how it’s just barely hidden from family members.

‘Self-Portrait in an Open Medicine Cabinet’, by Andrew Leland, a sophisticated piece which, as the subtitle explains, is about ‘How going blind is like looking at good art’.

‘Forty-Two Reasons Your Girlfriend Works for the FBI, CIA, NSA, ICE, S.H.I.E.L.D., Fringe Division, Men in Black, or Cylon Overlords’, by Haris A. Durrani, a very clever account of a high school romance in a nearly all-white town from the perspective of a smart and nerdy Muslim guy.

‘Orange Julius’, by Kirsten Iskandrian, a very blunt and honest account of a mother trying to stay sane when motherhood does not come naturally to her.

‘The Love Song of J. Alfred Trump’, by Wendy Molyneux, a takeoff on the Prufrock poem by T.S. Eliot in which Molyneux interjects imagined lines from our 45th president into the verse – absolutely brilliant, and it was great re-reading the original poem as well.

‘The Six-Word Sequels to ‘For Sale: Baby Shoes, Never Worn’, by Keaton Patti, which was just that.

‘The Unknown Masterpiece’ by Honore de Balzac, with Endnotes by Valeria Luiselli which are funny, playful, and intelligent, both illustrating the truth of great art and the artistic tradition, as well as its pretentiousness and disingenuous positioning.

‘The Dispersing Journeys (Final Appendix)’, by Edouardo Berti, which had a number of dead-on truths for this reader, including the pathological need to have a current book, the ritual of selecting the next book and looking for a word or concept shared between consecutive books, invariably living a bit like a hermit, and the ‘atrocity’ of a spoiler placed in the introductory remarks for a book. Pretty clever little piece to end the issue.

Jeez, that’s a lot of favorites. Ah, well. ( )