Gentlemen (and Ladies):
Upon my return from a long western lecture trip, I find The New York Review waiting for me. It is the first—and a welcome first—attempt to raise reviewing in America to an intelligent level. It is the only complement to the London Times Literary Supplement that any publisher in this country has put out. I particularly admire Mary McCarthy’s penetrating appraisal of Burrough’s The Naked Lunch, James Newman’s examination of Lovell’s Exploration of Outer Space and Elizabeth Hardwick’s brilliant causerie.
June 1, 1963