The Paris Review21 min gelesen
Apparent
When my son Henry was a year old I took him to Boston to meet my mother. She didn’t show up. It turned out that she had gone to Foxwoods Casino instead, which sounds bad and maybe was, but it had been three years since I’d seen her or even spoken to
The Paris Review12 min gelesen
An Unspoken
Hal Parker runs out to his wife’s hydrangea bushes. He’s trying to scare away the neighbor’s black Lab, Major. Hal claps his hands in front of him and shouts, but Major’s already peeing on the bush. It seems to Hal that lately the dog just won’t stay
The Paris Review2 min gelesen
Joanna Klink
Far into fever, attached by cords to the soft-clicking machines, he sleepsin a bed in a room not his own.People enter and pass like ghost-blownfogs. He is a slow walkwith limbs that recently gave way.He is part of the blue snowfall.He is very small,
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
John Skoyles
My grandmother had eight children,one of them twice. The first Olga liveda mere month, succeeded by my mother,the second Olga, dragged from childhoodeach Sunday to face her fate—a stone at Calvary Cemeterycarved with her name. She treated the maze of
The Paris Review17 min gelesen
Diary Of A Country Mouse
THURSDAY, 10 DECEMBER. Giles shows us the sample mice and I am, as if for the first time, overcome with joy. Perhaps when I was a child I had feelings like this—but not in many years. I look, for instance, at a small gray mouse, smaller than the othe
The Paris Review21 min gelesen
Childhood, Boyhood, Youth
They had finished reading War and Peace, and now they were celebrating their triumph at a Russian supper club in Brighton Beach. There were twelve of them seated at the long table (“Just like that painting of what’s-his-name’s dinner, minus what’s-hi
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Rachel Eliza Griffiths
Weeks after her death I came to the garden windowto marvel at sudden pale feathers catching, scatteringpast the rainy glass. I looked for magic everywhere.Signs from the afterlife that I was, indeed, distinct.Beneath the talon of a red-tailed hawk a
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Peter Filkins
When Archie told me the incredible storyof Lady Margaret’s piano, an Obermeier pluckedfrom a forgotten warehouse in bombed-out Berlin,then secretly carted off, scarfed up by the Alliesand loaded onto a plane, delivered to Irelandonly to end up the el
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Jeffrey Harrison
While we were waiting for the movie to begin,my wife caught up with her old friend Maryann,and because I could only make out everythird or fourth word, my attention fluttered offin search of something else and landed onthe thirty-five-ish couple sitt
The Paris Review3 min gelesen
Contributors
SENAA AHMAD’s fiction appears in Lightspeed, Uncanny Magazine, and Strange Horizons. She is a graduate of the Clarion Workshop. JESSE BALL is an author. His works have been published in many parts of the world and translated into seventeen languages.
The Paris Review2 min gelesen
Zoë Hitzig
Yes I helped decree it.In the white-walledroom of before withstrangers + veils.Don’t think I don’t thinkabout it daily. Up herefumigating my orielaccording to the NewerOrdering. I feel exactlyhow we got here. Wethought. Then we didas we thought. Then
The Paris Review6 min gelesen
Credits
Cover: © Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, courtesy of Tiwani Contemporary. Pages 34–62, courtesy of Rachel Cusk; pages 104–21, © Pamela Phatsimo Sunstrum, courtesy of Tiwani Contemporary; pages 144, 153, 161, courtesy of Nathaniel Mackey; page 156, photo by
The Paris Review3 min gelesen
PAMELA PHATSIMO SUNSTRUM New and Recent Paintings
It was in The Black Book, edited by Toni Morrison, that I first learned that before Christopher Columbus ever thought of my part of the world, the Caribbean, as new, Africans had already been there. Not as enslaved people but as traders and warriors.
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Jayanta Mahapatra
Over, the kite’s flight; and of a suddenis the realization of the morning overcomeby the echo of dark nights, silent witnessto the colorlessness crouching down before us.Stealing time is what’s been happening all the time.Is it because you’ve heard o
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Billy Collins
Either they just dieor they get sick and die of the sicknessor they get sick, recover, then die of something else,or they get sick, appear to recover,then die of the same thing,the sickness coming backto take another bite out of youin the forest of y
The Paris Review18 min gelesen
Let’s Play Dead
There was a man, let’s call him Henry VIII. There was his wife, let’s call her Anne B. Let’s give them a castle and make it nice. Let’s give her many boy babies but make them dead. Let’s give him a fussy way of being. Let’s make her smart and sneaky,
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
The Paris Review
Editor Emily Nemens Managing Editor Hasan Altaf Online Editor Nadja Spiegelman Assistant Online Editor Brian Ransom Assistant Editor Lauren Kane Poetry Editor Vijay Seshadri Art Editor Charlotte Strick Southern Editor John Jeremiah Sullivan London Ed
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
John Kinsella
Not frequent, the monitors of doomed pastoraladmit these native moths their autumn rising after a sleepy eviscerated summer, stubblesuddenly alive with beakiness, and then and then … emergence from pupae and the flutter the matingand egg-laying that
The Paris Review14 min gelesen
By Design
Her son and his future wife took Suzanne out to lunch and asked her to do the wedding invitations. Not so long ago, she had been a successful graphic designer. Her own boss. They were anxious to make her feel useful. When the food arrived, it was veg
The Paris Review33 min gelesen
The Art of Poetry No. 107
In an era when poetry is increasingly compressed to fit our iPhone screens, Nathaniel Mackey has been writing two astonishing long poems—“Mu” and Song of the Andoumboulou—across multiple books for the past thirty-five years. “Mu” and Song of the Ando
The Paris Review4 min gelesen
G. C. Waldrep
I was reading a biography of Pugin. Architecturewas how Pugin avoided God.This much is evident. When he slipped out at nightto drift down to the water he was a smoke.He did not look up at the moon. We can be surethat any bargain he made was intention
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Liza Watkins
I am named in my mother’s trustbut no one knows how to find her land. Bounded to the north by the Southern Pacific Railroad,east by the heirs of Dugas, Robichaux,west by a gravel road. How much of this do I own? View of: Property containing 25 arpent
The Paris Review31 min gelesen
The Art of Fiction No. 246
Rachel Cusk was born in Canada in 1967 to British parents, who moved the family to Los Angeles, then to England, where Cusk lives to this day. She began publishing in her midtwenties—clever and assured novels featuring men and women attempting, with
The Paris Review5 min gelesen
A Story for Your Daughters, a Story for Your Sons
The war had closed much of the city, cut off many of the smaller towns. Unable to trace his usual routes, the hat merchant headed into the mountains to try his luck. His father, before he died, had circled a small mountain village on his map, had not
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Griffin Brown
after an oil painting by Peter Doig As is always the case with Doig, we are on the inside.Outside, this time, is a coast we all know.The view is ideal: the day has reached an end,the water is mostly still, and the moisture in the airmakes every light
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
James Longenbach
Once, in a room no bigger than the bed,I made love with a girl. Have you ever made love with a girl?Once I hadn’t, then I had. A girl was looking up at me.She was lying on the grass. Once, after a terrible fight, I made love with a girl.We were child
The Paris Review1 min gelesen
Kevin Young
I am learning how to sleepagain, to lovethe descent, or is it, lying here, a rising upto summitwhere sleep wanders till waking. And whenI cannot, when the waterleaches into everything & capsizes me, I wonderwhere you are,father, if anywhere at all—Do
The Paris Review2 min gelesen
Margaret Ross
A ginkgo leaf like a splayed ass A begonia leaf is a pebbled surfacegreen and burgundy A long and narrow leaf curls down All the different methodsof extending yourself so the sunmight better touch you Serrated edges of the teardropnettle leaves sting
The Paris Review4 min gelesen
Staff Picks: Sex, Stand-Up, and South Korea
Ha Seong-nan. There’s something pleasingly matter-of-fact to the many off-kilter moments found in Ha Seong-nan’s short story collection Flowers of Mold (translated from the Korean by Janet Hong). When problems arise for her characters—a potential int
The Paris Review10 min gelesenFood & Wine
Cooking with Elizabeth Jane Howard
In Valerie Stivers’s Eat Your Words series, she cooks up recipes drawn from the works of various writers. The old-fashioned matriarch in the Cazalet Chronicles believes in just adding more bread crumbs to the rissoles if there’s not enough food for t
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