Blog / Interviews

10 Questions for Jamie Richards

May 13, 2020 - By Edward Clifford

Natasha — my name, which is not from my only language, the one, the survivor, is also not from the other, the aborted, the rejected— becomes N-A-T-A-S-H-A. Hell to write, especially because of that "SH" that to me sounds like it should be "SCI." But I've accepted things as they are: for everyone else "SCI" is "SCI," for me "SCI" is "SH."
—from "That's Life, Honey" by Gabriella Kuruvilla, Translated by Jamie Richards and Alex Valente, Volume 61, Issue 1 (Spring 2020)

Tell us about one of the first pieces you translated.
The very first piece I ever translated was a story from an anthology of women’s writing: “Matelda” by Elisabetta...

A Virtual Reading with Desirée Alvarez

May 5, 2020 - By Desirée Alvarez

Poet Desirée Alvarez (Volume 61, Issue 1) reads from her latest book, Raft of Flame (OmniDawn).

10 Questions for Peter Krumbach

May 4, 2020 - By Edward Clifford

Would you like a cigarette? I'd prefer Talking Mule, 1979 Burgundy. Texture and hie of Bethlehem rust. Notes of must, slate, and pre-coital rouge when tongued to the roof of the mouth. Bold finish, lingering up to seventeen seconds, diminishing to uvular frog. 3.5 stars.
— from "Police Interrogation of Food Critic B.W. Ball," Volume 61, Issue 1 (Spring 2020)

Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
The very first is the one I can’t remember. My grandmother taught me how to read and write when I was about 5. That, along with the fact I was the only child, led to creating imaginary characters who’d find their way out of my head onto the page. The first piece I do remember was an assignment in 3^rd...

A Virtual Reading with Danusha Laméris

May 3, 2020 - By Danusha Laméris

The Massachusetts Review presents a virtual poetry reading with Danusha Laméris, featuring her poem from the Spring 2020 issue , "Detour." 

Strong Words

April 30, 2020 - By Alex Valente and Jamie Richards

(Photo by Fabio Venni)

Gabriella Kuruvilla’s story, “That’s Life, Honey,” presents an array of narrative elements that are unprecedented in their native Italian context and certainly unusual in English. We have a teenage speaker, named Natasha, whom we indirectly learn—based on the sex workers lining her street—lives in a degraded area of a city; we also find out that Natasha is not ethnically Italian, but Indian, at least on her paternal side, and that she is haunted by a lost native language that causes her to speak the only language she really can, Italian, imperfectly. Her story is punctuated by her mother’s darkly humorous expletive, “negro di merda!,” used to express her dissatisfaction with everyone and everything.