


On the Daily
To Be Mary MacLane
By Penelope Rosemont
In the end, there was her bed, durable and movable. The sheets, discardable. The straws, the cup, the bedside table. A pack of sponge swabs. The bird on the vine clock calling. There was a draft moving down the hallway, tangible and felt.
In 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.
Jaishri Abichandani’s new show “Utopian Imagination” provide glimpses of different futures, ones more joyous and inclusive.
Our monthly column Feminize Your Canon explores the lives of underrated and underread female authors.
This week, we’ve lowered the paywall on three pieces that are featured on the second season of ‘The Paris Review Podcast.’
Cooking up recipes drawn from the works of various writers.
“You’re a real one for opening your mouth in the first place,” Itzie said. “What do you open your mouth all the time for?” “I didn’t bring it up, Itz, I didn’t,” Ozzie said. “What do you care about Jesus Christ for anyway?” “I didn’t bring up Jesus Christ. He did. I didn’t even know what he was talking about. Jesus is historical, he kept saying. Jesus is historical.” Ozzie mimicked the monumental voice of Rabbi Binder. “Jesus was a person that lived like you and me,” Ozzie continued. “That’s…
I was sitting at a long table with a lot of nice things on it. There was a large pitcher of water with an ornate handle that looked like it was made of real silver, and there were forks and spoons. There were apples and small, round appetizers, and a big dead cooked goose. There were so many things that the table underneath was eclipsed entirely; the visible objects obscured even more food, more tableware beneath. My mother and father were sitting next to each other on the long side of the tab…