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.
A shot from my father’s gun killed our neighbor and traced a trajectory through decades of guilt, shame, fear and anger. Unraveling the moment my family calls "the accident."
Since returning to New York City, I’ve thought deeply about the ways trauma has estranged me from myself. Growth has meant restoring my relationship with my bodily experience.
As more and more friendships are built virtually, we must confront the nuances of grieving someone you've never met in person.
Rose McGowan suffered from the worst of the Hollywood machine and reclaimed her body and her narrative. But her all-for-one methods have alienated fellow activists.
On the aesthetics and sensuality of the Oscar-nominated director behind Call Me By Your Name.
The author of Stealing the Show on the provocative power of representation, tracing female characters from Mary Tyler Moore to Broad City's Abbi and Ilana, and why it's strange that we still call it television.