Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 116
May 6, 2019
The Old Man in the Cottage
FEROZ RATHER
Its old wooden walls painted over in a dark shade of green, the cottage had two narrow slits for the windows in the front. Between them, a door clung to a feeble frame on rusting metal hinges – a door that I could break with a single blow of my axe.
Its old wooden walls painted over in a dark shade of green, the cottage had two narrow slits for the windows in the front. Between them, a door clung to a feeble frame on rusting metal hinges – a door that I could break with a single blow of my axe.
May 2, 2019
The Silence of Fire
HAIDAR HAIDAR
All the former prisoner wanted was a fragment from the circle of calm, stripped from the body of noisy time. He lay down to doze, trying to rid himself of the noise and the horror of imprisonment coursing through his nervous system. With his return, the silence had returned…
All the former prisoner wanted was a fragment from the circle of calm, stripped from the body of noisy time. He lay down to doze, trying to rid himself of the noise and the horror of imprisonment coursing through his nervous system. With his return, the silence had returned…
May 1, 2019
Remembering Richard Todd
JENNIFER ACKER
"Clarity isn't an exciting virtue, but it is a virtue always." I repeat this maxim to my students, and it runs through my own head with even greater frequency. It comes from Good Prose, a guide to writing and editing excellent nonfiction, co-written by Tracy Kidder and the late Richard Todd, who passed away on April 21.
"Clarity isn't an exciting virtue, but it is a virtue always." I repeat this maxim to my students, and it runs through my own head with even greater frequency. It comes from Good Prose, a guide to writing and editing excellent nonfiction, co-written by Tracy Kidder and the late Richard Todd, who passed away on April 21.
April 30, 2019
Review: Mudflat Dreaming
WILL PRESTON
Mudflat Dreaming takes its title from the Maplewood Mudflats, a stretch of riverbank just east of Vancouver that was home to a large settlement of artists, environmentalists, college professors, and retirees in the late ’60s and early ’70s. These squatters, dissatisfied with the constraints of contemporary life, constructed rambling homes on the shore from driftwood and other salvaged material.
Mudflat Dreaming takes its title from the Maplewood Mudflats, a stretch of riverbank just east of Vancouver that was home to a large settlement of artists, environmentalists, college professors, and retirees in the late ’60s and early ’70s. These squatters, dissatisfied with the constraints of contemporary life, constructed rambling homes on the shore from driftwood and other salvaged material.
April 26, 2019
April 2019 Poetry Feature: Jessica Lanay
JESSICA LANAY
We dampened the cool white sheets
throwing each other, knowing
we are both liars; we didn’t get
what we wanted: me—a chest
to shelter me for the night; you—
some reassurance that you had any
power at all in the world.
We awoke and love abandoned
We dampened the cool white sheets
throwing each other, knowing
we are both liars; we didn’t get
what we wanted: me—a chest
to shelter me for the night; you—
some reassurance that you had any
power at all in the world.
We awoke and love abandoned
April 25, 2019
Ask a Local: Bina Shah, Karachi, Pakistan
BINA SHAH
The city grows by leaps and bounds; the population seems to double in size every few years. And yet we have unparalleled beauty: the sea and its dramatic, sudden sunsets, bougainvillea growing on every wall, palm trees and neem trees, and then the trees that flower in a blaze of white and yellow, red and pink—plumeria, flame trees, gul mohur and amaltass.
The city grows by leaps and bounds; the population seems to double in size every few years. And yet we have unparalleled beauty: the sea and its dramatic, sudden sunsets, bougainvillea growing on every wall, palm trees and neem trees, and then the trees that flower in a blaze of white and yellow, red and pink—plumeria, flame trees, gul mohur and amaltass.
April 24, 2019
January in the Jardin de Luxembourg
Susan Harlan
Today the gardens are made of four colors: the white-gray of the sky and the statues, the black of the branches, the green of the grass and chairs and benches, and the tan of the gravel paths.
Today the gardens are made of four colors: the white-gray of the sky and the statues, the black of the branches, the green of the grass and chairs and benches, and the tan of the gravel paths.
April 19, 2019
Friday Reads: April 2019
Curated by: SARAH WHELAN Happy Launch Week! We are so delighted that Issue 17 is here in time for spring. After you’ve enjoyed these recommendations from some of our Issue 17 contributors, purchase your copy here. Recommendations: Be With by Forrest Gander, The World of Yesterday: Memoirs of a European by Stefan Zweig, Housekeeping by
April 18, 2019
Honoring Amherst Writers
For Amherst College's fourth annual LitFest, The Common put together a Literary Landmarks tour of Amherst College, highlighting locations on campus with special connections to literary figures affiliated with the college, from Robert Frost to Lauren Groff. Building on that effort, we've compiled a list of pieces published in The Common that were written either by or about Amherst professors, alums, and even current students.
April 16, 2019
Philosophical Flowers
RICHIE HOFMANN
The streets are named for German poets / in my huge provincial Midwestern city. / Dust whirls up from the tires of passing cars, / lifting a veil over me, like Romantic longing. On Goethe, I want nothing / more than to reach down and feel a lover’s big skull
The streets are named for German poets / in my huge provincial Midwestern city. / Dust whirls up from the tires of passing cars, / lifting a veil over me, like Romantic longing. On Goethe, I want nothing / more than to reach down and feel a lover’s big skull
