![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() For many of them, Snyder holds the key to understanding the present. Peabody by way of Droopy Dog, his audience hangs on his every word. But even if Snyder’s mien is less Robert Langdon than Mr. ![]() His deeply recessed eyes give him a permanently careworn expression, and his loose-fitting suits and shirts contribute to a sense of dishevelment held at bay in the name of civic duty. The expectant chatter falls away quickly when Snyder appears. Rather, it was Timothy Snyder, a serious-minded Yale professor and historian of the Holocaust. Rowling, or even an academic-turned-self-help-guru like Daniel Gilbert or Adam Grant. The cause of all this excitement wasn’t Dan Brown or J.K. Holding a New Yorker tote and a thermos of tea, he told me he had discovered the author’s books earlier in the year and had systematically devoured them. Two days later, at a book event at the New School, another superfan buzzed with excitement. Was there an extra spot in the seminar room? Would the event be live-streamed? On both counts, the answer was no. Each held a clutch of books they hoped to have signed, and frantically pleaded with an event organizer. The gathering was private, yet the couple had somehow slipped past the doorman. On a brisk, mist-filled October night, a middle-aged couple were begging to be let into an event just up the street from Columbia University, at the International House. ![]()
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