This week’s issue of the New Yorker has a special treat for photo enthusiasts: An ode to the Leica M series by critic Anthony Lake. This is not a piece about the history of wonderful images taken by Leica photographers over the years (though there is plenty of photo history). It’s a love-struck appreciation of the hardware itself. It is unselfconscious Ludditism in its disdain of digital technology.
In other words, this article is everything that is infuriating and exceptional about the camera of everyone’s dreams. In fact, what else does the Leica represent nowadays, except the dream of a perfect world that is no more?