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Plot Points: A Review of Masande Ntshanga’s Triangulum

April 15, 2020

Ultimately, like a magic eye puzzle, the fullness of Ntshanga’s accomplishment only comes into focus if we allow our suspicious attention to go a bit slack. The harder we look, the less we know for sure. We can only carve a space around what it is and find joy and pleasure in seeing how the image shifts into and out of focus, knowing that it will disappear as soon as the delicate balance is lost.

The Tradition: A Review

April 15, 2020

“I don’t know if “I begin with love” means he was conceived in love or means that it is his starting point in life or this is his treatise on the meaning of life. I don’t care. It’s all good to me. I want to be with a person who says that.”

Aggravated Tendencies

April 3, 2020

by Becky Tuch The first phone call came on a Wednesday evening. The guidance counselor at Michael’s school. Disturbed, he said he was, by some of Michael’s recent in-school behavior. He referred to Michael as your son and then, moments … Continued

Tiny Bodies in Riot: A Review of mai c. doan’s Water / Tongue

February 14, 2020

doan’s work opens up new possibilities for living as an autonomous body unoccupied and undefined by a series of historical and violent circumstances. She provides a hidden stairwell out—guidelines for how to dwell within that conflicted space of the diaspora, and how language temporarily relieves us of its strain.

Though I Get Home: A Review

February 14, 2020

In Though I Get Home, pluralities of identity go beyond human comprehension: does it have to do with the country where you were born? The place where you live? Where you work? Or is there something deeper?

Deirdre

February 5, 2020

by ANNE HOSANSKY “My father jumped out of a window.” Those were the first words I heard from her. We were standing in the schoolyard when she said that. She was a new girl in my class, kind of funny-looking, … Continued

Wishing on Tunnels

January 19, 2020

by Emry Trantham I still hold my breath going through the dark of a tunnel, through a mountain somebody’s granddaddy blasted hollow so as to make space for this black and yellow asphalt trail. The dark in the bowel of … Continued