What's to be done about someone whose art is or seems to be so great, but whose prejudices were unquestionably contributory to great evil? How do you continue to appreciate art once aware of the enormity it was accessory to?
Did anyone really think that an issue of the New Yorker would magically include even 50 percent women writers? No. Did we want to be reminded of that perpetual imbalance? Perhaps not. Did we need to be reminded? Absolutely.