On the Daily
On Line: The Pulse of Agnes Martin
By John Vincler
The Obsessive Fictions of László Krasznahorkai
By Dustin IllingworthA Krasznahorkai novel may be an abyss, but the depths are brimming.
The Daily
Archive of Longing
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
What Susan Sontag Saw
By Benjamin MoserAs a child, facing an awful reality, Susan Sontag fled into the safety of her mind. Forever after, she tried to creep back out.
The Daily
Arts & Culture
Feminize Your Canon
By Emma GarmanOur monthly column Feminize Your Canon explores the lives of underrated and underread female authors.
Feminize Your Canon
Advertisement
Redux: Lies That Have Hardened
By The Paris ReviewWe’ve lowered the paywall on an interview with the woman behind the JT LeRoy hoax, a story by Uzodinma Iweala, and a poem by Alan Davies.
The Daily
Redux
The Crane Wife
By CJ HauserTen days after I called off my engagement I was supposed to go on a scientific expedition to study the whooping crane on the gulf coast of Texas.
From the Archive, Issue
genre tbd
Susannah Hunnewell 1966-2019
By Mona SimpsonThe Paris Review lost a dear friend when Susannah Hunnewell, the publisher of the magazine, passed away on June 15. Susannah and I were once invited to a party. We met in the park at sunset and she decided, on a lark, that we should take a horse-drawn carriage. She kept asking the driver to make another turn, go farther uptown, east, then south and back, it was so beautiful, the buildings in the gold light towering around us. I’d lived in New York for twelve years but never ridden in a car…
In the Current Issue, Issue 230
Miscellaneous
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…
