At this distance, from the other shore, looking across the river north and east, you just can’t tell what kind of trees they are, feathered in those ideal humid greens in a sort of flow toward the horizon and the ocean. In perspective they diminish to depletion, into the sunset’s haw and haze, as if…
With his two hands covering his two eyes he prays in the middle of the road over the clump of fur and bone that was himself. He looks like my old zayde in the synagogue two decades ago ashamed for his poverty. Comedian of the hard frost, deft…
MASTHEAD Guest Editors Howard Norman & Jane Shore Editor Don Lee Poetry Editor David Daniel Associate Editor Susan Conley Assistant Fiction Editor Maryanne O'Hara Founding Editor DeWitt Henry Founding Publisher Peter O'Malley Editorial Assistants: Darla Bruno, Gregg Rosenblum, and Tom Herd. Poetry Readers: Paul Berg, Brian Scales, Michael Henry, Renee Rooks, Charlotte Pence, R. J….
I meet my father in a restaurant. He knows why I have asked to meet him, but he swaggers in anyway. It’s a place near his office, and he hands out hellos all around as he makes his way over to my table. “My daughter,” he explains to the men who have begun to grin,…
Ann Beattie, My Life, Starring Dara Falcon, a novel: Beattie’s sixth novel is narrated, with soaring irony and comic verve, by Jean Warner, a young bride in New England whose life and marriage are spun helter-skelter by the arrival of Dara Falcon, a brilliant, pathological liar. (Knopf)
It wasn’t lewd or revealing of anything round except my shoulders which Mother forever urged back with military brio, yellow—never my best color— a square of magenta for the bust, bought in the Village at mod, expensive Paraphernalia (what Grandpa called his bait and tackle; his paraphernalia). Did you know that store? Glossy white go-go…
I n the future, everyone will be someone else. At her school, the future had been discussed as if it were a definite sort of business, with tangible boundaries like an island nation. It was a place you could rocket to or grope towards in a state of anticipation. But if thinking about your actual…
Richard Ford, Women with Men, three stories: Three long stories which once again demonstrate Ford’s mastery. Two of the stories are set in contemporary Paris, the third in Montana-all about men trying to fathom the women they love. (Knopf)
Celestine Truxa was born in Salzburg on the eve of Metternich’s coronation as prince. According to the midwife, her mother split up the middle like a birch tree hit by lightning, managing to stay alive just long enough to see her daughter’s face lodged in the crook of her husband’s arm, eloquent of birth and…
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