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.
The author of Remnants of a Separation: A History of the Partition through Material Memory, on remembering a past “lodged in between the cracks of memory."
By twenty-seven I was supposed to be well on my way to stability, or at least the illusion of such. Instead, my life had increasingly taken on a scrappy plainness.
The author of Abandon Me on queer world-building IRL and on the page, writerly toolkits and the freedom of abandoning all sense of chill in romantic relationships.
Canadians want to focus on Gord Downie, on anniversaries, on the prime minister's photo-ops, on giant rubber ducks—on anything, it seems, but Indigenous people.
This year, this prolonged unraveling, is what survival looks like.
If a signature scent represents the delineations of a person fully fleshed, perfume samples offer the liberty of a protean form.