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Just a few hours ago, an era passed. You may be pardoned if you did not know this; few among us humans understand the power of a good editor. (I firmly believe we all should -- editing, after all, isn't just about words. Being able to edit what you wear is important. So is being able to edit how you shop for groceries, or how you interact with your relatives, or how you rotate your spices.) Earlier today, Eleanor Gould Packard died at the age of 87. Packard was a copyeditor at The New Yorker, and its current editor David Remnick was granting her praise of the highest order when he told The New York Times that "She has been inside my sentences."

Packard joined the magazine in 1945 and remained there until her retirement in 1999 (when she was in her 80s!). Her meticulous attention to syntax shaped so much of the magazine that one could almost claim her voice joined with those of its legendary writers such as E.B. White, John McPhee, and Janet Malcolm (almost; I doubt that Packard herself would make that claim -- I didn't know her, but I do know many fine editors and they are happy to remain anonymous).

Of course, many things have changed at The New Yorker, and many of those have changed since Packard retired. There are new and different departments, shorter features, fewer short stories, etc., etc. But not only will Packard's imprint remain; her shaping of fine prose influenced more than one generation of writers (including mine).

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