Our thoughts about the mind or our minds themselves? Popular science at the edge of meaning.
On Dwelling: Poets and the Academy
Will poetry save us from our present circumstance of hell? Of course not. Yet it feels like it will, which is why, despite knowing better, poets persist in writing it.
Whose Words Are Ours: Stefania Heim’s Theoretical Feminine Poetics of Terror
Heim holds fast to the clarity and blur of spacetime in the imagination, and she describes one dimension in terms of another, à la the Theory of Relativity
What did A Room Of One’s Own really mean to modernist women?
Literary modernism and new accommodation in interwar London have twinned histories.
Big cats being trafficked through rural towns near the border of the American south was just plain realism.
“Being all-natural is all very nice and good,” my doctor says as she shoves the EXIT door for me. She shakes her head, “but there comes a point when you need to take charge.”
99 River Street – both the film and the critical reaction to it – serves to encapsulate the various strategies that we’ve seen deployed in the backlash to the Me Too movement – from denial to willed blindness to mockery.
Should We Believe in Autofiction?
What if there is a great distance between an author’s real life and the way it’s represented on the page? What kind of accountability, if that’s the case, should the reader expect from the author?
Even if we go nowhere, even if we staycate, our escape is always into rather than out from under the imperial gaze.
A drill-rig in the pasture. The intaglio of ditches in the valley. The person you sleep beside in bed. A life is a kind of dirt.