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.
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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.”
She stops to look into her mother's face. It is smooth and blank as a stone. Nothing emerges; nothing shifts.
This is the first time in all eighteen years of her life that Grace has ever snuck out of her mother’s house.
To be haunted by nostalgia is probably to be writing. Seventy years after Partition, India becomes, in our sentimental imaginations, both sweepingly general and intensely personal.
Talking to the author of The Stranger in the Woods about the hermit subject of his new book, what it takes to survive 27 years in solitude, and finding contentment in isolation.
Our stories are stock: they hold the disparate parts of ourselves together—our desired flavor, how we want to taste, how we wish to be known.
The author of Making Rent in Bed-Stuy on how places change people, and how people change places.