From the Archive
Goodbye, Columbus
By Philip Roth
Poetry Rx: Still, Somehow, We Breathe
By Sarah KayDear Poets, Please send me poetry that makes me feel excitement about the world around me, or poetry that, in economic ways (I really hate self-indulgent, long-winded poems) expresses deep, deep feeling.
The Daily
Poetry Rx
Poetry Rx
By Sarah Kay, Kaveh Akbar, and Claire SchwartzIn our column Poetry Rx, readers write in with a specific emotion, and our resident poets take turns prescribing the perfect poems to match. This week, Kaveh Akbar is on the line.
Poetry Rx
Revisited: Watson and the Shark
By Elizabeth McCrackenYou can tell the painter is not overly acquainted with sharks. This one has the sensual lips of a movie villain and slanted, prominent nostrils. At the same time the shark is familiar, iconic, and it seems almost impossible that John Singleton Copley…
The Daily
Revisited
Feminize Your Canon
By Emma GarmanOur monthly column Feminize Your Canon explores the lives of underrated and underread female authors.
Feminize Your Canon
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Mrs. ‘Stoner’ Speaks
By Patricia ReimannNancy Gardner Williams, who was married to the cult-favorite novelist John Williams, discusses his newly reissued debut, ‘Nothing but the Night.’
The Daily
Arts & Culture
Eat Your Words
By Valerie StiversCooking up recipes drawn from the works of various writers.
Eat Your Words
Edie Sedgwick: A Reminiscence
By Bobby AndersonI met Margouleff just after I got out of the hospital where J was seriously ill with hepatitis and told every day that I wasn’t going to make it, and was all prepared to die. I came out all traumatized. Very strange. Margouleff came along. I was so weak already from exhaustion I was ready to fall down in the street. I had lost my apartment and everything in it. He walked up to me and he said, “Hello, you big tomato.” I said, “Get the hell out of here. Leave me alone, you creep.” He could see t…
From the Archive, Issue 78
Letters & Essays
This Configuration
By John AshberyThis movie deals with the epidemic of the way we live now. / What an inane card player. And the age may support it. / Each time the rumble of the age / Is an anthill in the distance.
