THE GENUINE ARTICLE
The strange case of Kyril Bonfiglioli.
"This is not an autobiographical novel," the author's note warns. "It is about some other portly, dissolute, immoral and middle-aged art dealer." — on the cultishly adored Charlie Mortdecai
September 20, 2004
The New Yorker is older than we are. For issues that predate this project, an algorithm trained on our taste did the picking.