On the Daily
Staff Picks: Messengers and Melancholy
By The Paris Review
Cooking with Lampedusa
By Valerie StiversValerie Stivers dreams up a meal fit for a Sicilian prince, including delicious minestrone, a big drum of pasta, and CBD oil–infused granita.
The Daily
Eat Your Words
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
Re-Covered: Margaret Drabble’s 1977 Brexit Novel
By Lucy ScholesMore than any of the contemporary so-called Brexit novels, it’s ‘The Ice Age,’ a book written more than forty years ago, that offers the most haunting portrait of our current era of unrest.
The Daily
Re-Covered
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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Who Was My Mother?
By Sallie TisdaleI stand outside, looking through her half-drawn curtains, trying to read her story. Which is part of my story.
The Daily
First Person
Eat Your Words
By Valerie StiversCooking up recipes drawn from the works of various writers.
Eat Your Words
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…
