Now all the batterings sustained in gym after dusty gym,red wet faces shoved into his, thick leather mitts pummeling his flanks with a noise of meat being beatento submission look like one long drubbing tattooed into his skinyears ahead of each particular humiliation, while the carcassin the mirror is as scarred, he muses, . . .
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Say it.To smooth a section of one’s hairas if in an unsurfacedconvulsion.—from “In the Other Window”, Fall 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 3) Tell us about one of the first pieces you translated.With my co-translator Juan Meneses, I first translated “Two Poems about Poverty,” from Concha García’s 2008 collection, Acontecimiento. (Later, this translation appeared . . .
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For many of us with literary interests, the end of October’s first week coincides not only with the beginning of baseball playoffs but also with the announcement of the Nobel Prize for Literature. The weeks preceding the announcement see statements of preference and prediction, and the oddsmakers at Ladbroke’s even handicap the . . .
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“A rumor states that if you wait there for the devil, you can trade your soul in exchange for otherworldly guitar chops or a booming dentistry career or a lifelong tropical vacation. Those down-and-out enough are prone to superstition. They’ll believe just about anything. They’ll even believe that your average Sorbis is . . .
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(Photo by The Onion) Let’s get one thing straight about the Supremes. In this moment, where hope still springs for the defeat of Brett Kavanaugh’s nomination to the Supreme Court (hope that ought to be shared not only by those to the left of center but by anyone who cares about the rule . . .
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WHO IS THE FOREIGNER? In principle, everyone—according to the scriptures—beginning with Abraham, caught and held by a voice that orders him to take leave of his land, of the home of his father, and head off for an unidentified destination. Abraham must become a foreigner so he will continue to hear the . . .
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“But to find women in heroic tales whose roles embrace something beyond spousal identity and dogged faithfulness, we need to move outside Mediterranean and Anglocentric circles. We must look north.” —from “Alone in the Center: Brynhild and Brünnhilde”, Fall 2018 (Vol. 59, Issue 3) Tell us about one of the first pieces . . .
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We tried everything: ovulation predictors, herbal elixirs, ten cycles of IVF, and one illegal Indian surrogate. I’m telling you this because I want you to know how we got to this dark room on the edge of the Navy yard filled with 3-D printed bio-wombs, among them my soon-to-be daughter.—from “Gen XX”, . . .
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Photo by Getty Images. Scientific American, December 2017. In the north the skies will start to close in. The clouds will thicken—a cover sealed shut. Even bombing won’t make them open. Daily temperatures will fall, the earth will freeze, become barren. The skies will be dark, even at noon during the summer solstice. Citicombs . . .
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“I was born with one eye. On the day of my delivery (June 6, 2004) the doctor and nurses at St. Alice’s maternity ward were ready and waiting for my arrival, equipped with their APGAR test, which stands for: Appearance Pulse Grimace Activity Respiration and is a rating of 1-10 for “newborn . . .
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