The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
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The baby had come from a place none of us could remember. Our grandmother was headed there.
The author of Mother of God discusses the limitations of realism, Frank Bidart, and the anguished duality of shame.
Standing in the wreckage of these spaces unlocks a sensation people often crave, but can’t name.
It’s an imagined past, a pastoral imaginary, an alternate timeline in the multiverse.
“Bird,” he cried, “I come on behalf of the emperor. Your voice is all anyone speaks of.”
Desire and decision may not line up. Or indecision ends up being its own decision.
The author of One Day, Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This on euphemistic violence, Western hypocrisy, and personal complicity.
The veteran journalist and author of At a Loss for Words on how leaders have—and do—use language to sow the seeds of discord.
