I might well be late to the game, but the personal classifieds in the New York Review of Books are… well, fascinating.
Personals are weird beasts; there is a kind of code and etiquette to writing them; weird acronyms, certain phrases… Yet there is always something a little seedy to the enterprise. When I was in the UK my flatmates and I would sometimes go through the personals in the ‘best’ tabloids, but nothing compares to those in the New York Review of Books.
It doesn’t seem right that the New York Review of Books would carry Personals, but, at the same time, if the New York Review of Books is going to have such Personals, you would expect them to be of the best quality.
And boy, they are.