In the Current Issue
Aeternitas
By Szilárd Borbély
The Dharma Girls
By Blair HurleyDad gave me a copy of On the Road for Christmas when I was sixteen. At thirteen it had been The Great Gatsby and The Grapes of Wrath, then The Catcher in the Rye the year after that. In our house there was a wall of impressive hardcover books in t…
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Arts & Culture
Children
By Terry CastleI've been collecting anonymous photographs for more than two decades now and probably own a thousand or so, in all kind of formats. Nineteenth-century tintypes and cyanotypes, cabinet cards and cartes de visite, turn-of-the-century RPPCs (Real Photo Postcards), disaster pix, police mugshots and Bertillon cards, photo-booth strips, deaccessioned newspaper photos (especially ones with white crop marks), old prom photos, not to mention a recently acquired batch of ratty,
From the Archive, Issue 198
Art & Photography
My Withered Legs
By Sandra Gail LambertEarly on in my writing life, which for me was in my forties, I wrote a thinly disguised as fiction piece about a woman who needed to make immense changes in her life and how she was going to build the courage to live through the consequences. The s…
The Daily
Arts & Culture
Doggerels
By Samuel Beckettwhat good the eyes / have ill seen / have let escape / close them tight / the fingers the eyes / good is back / better still
From the Archive, Issue 215
Poetry
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Lady Soul
By Brian CullmanIn the end, we’re left with the music: those luminous gospel recordings she made as a young teenager, still under her father’s wing; the halting, if promising, cocktail-blues recordings from the early sixties; those earth-shaking singles and al…
The Daily
In Memoriam
Freedom
By Rachel CuskIt was growing dark outside, and the rain against the salon’s big windows looked like ink running down a page. The traffic crawled along the blackened road beyond.
From the Archive, Issue 217
Fiction
The Princes: A Reconstruction
By John Jeremiah SullivanPaul Jacob Marperger, member of the Prussian Academy of Sciences, is one of those figures you could know nothing about and not really be missing anything, but when you do know him, worlds open. Born Nuremberg, 1656; died Dresden, 1730.
From the Archive, Issue 200
Letters & Essays
The Mexican Girl
By Jack KerouacI had bought my ticket and was waiting for the L.A. bus when all of a sudden I saw the cutest little Mexican girl in slacks come cutting across my sight. She was in one of the buses that had just pulled in with a big sigh of air brakes and was discharging passengers for a rest stop. Her breasts stuck out straight; her little thighs looked delicious; her hair was long and lustrous black; and her eyes were great blue windows with timidities inside. I wished I was on her bus.
