Michiko Kakutani

Instagramming New York by night on her first publication day.

- Shawn McCreesh

IT’s 8:50 P.M., ten minutes before closing, and Michiko Kakutani is riffling through vinyl at A1 Records on East 6th Street, searching in vain for a copy of Beggars Banquet. “The Stones are my all-time favorite,” she says. “I wonder if they have any other Keith stuff here.” Kakutani worships Keith Richards. “I think he’s the heart and the soul of the Stones,” she explains. “He’s just inhaled all blues and musical history and he really wants to pass that knowledge on. I thought his memoir was totally amazing.”

Her opinion of that book is more important than yours, or mine, or anyone’s. That’s because in 2010, as chief book critic for the New York Times, she reviewed it. For three decades, hers was the most influential voice in publishing, her name itself turned into a verb. (You never wanted to be “Kakutanied.”) The line on her as a critic, loosely speaking, was that she was generous to talented newcomers and unforgiving of old lions who’d begun to coast. She memorably took down Norman Mailer, who hit back with flat-out racism.

Now she finds herself in the position of the reviewed rather than the reviewer. Last summer, she took a buyout from the Times after 38 years and began work on a slim book of her own. The Death of Truth: Notes on Falsehood in the Age of Trump has gone on sale the morning before we meet in the record shop. She helps me pick out two ’90s deep-house records and, as we exit, whips out her iPhone and points it toward the back of the store. The next day on Instagram, the photo appears: “A1 Record Shop, NYC #Vinyl #NYC.” It’s up to 256 likes.