Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 44
April 7, 2023
Friday Reads: April 2023
Things are finally warming up here in Western Mass: old snow banks are melting and fuzzy buds are popping up on the trees. Our spring issue—which features a portfolio of stunning fiction from Kuwait, apocalyptic poetry, a Ramadan romance, and a story about a dog in a Texas barrio—launches in just a few short weeks. If you’re wondering where these writers get their inspiration, look no further than this round of Friday Reads.
April 6, 2023
Excerpt from Before It Disappears
SYLVIA IPARRAGUIRRE
Unannounced, the past invades the Russian literature class one autumn morning in Buenos Aires. I'm facing one of the windows of the museum library, talking about Pushkin. It's raining outside and I allow myself a few seconds' pause—after all, I'm the one teaching the class.
Unannounced, the past invades the Russian literature class one autumn morning in Buenos Aires. I'm facing one of the windows of the museum library, talking about Pushkin. It's raining outside and I allow myself a few seconds' pause—after all, I'm the one teaching the class.
March 30, 2023
March 2023 Poetry Feature: New Poems by Our Contributors
RICHARD MICHELSON
It was essential, Einstein stated, that he bring his violin / to Berta Fanta’s salon on Prague’s Old Town Square. / It is 1912, four years until Relativity, and six before / the first wave of the Spanish flu / will kill, among the / 500 million infected, the painter, Egon Schiele
It was essential, Einstein stated, that he bring his violin / to Berta Fanta’s salon on Prague’s Old Town Square. / It is 1912, four years until Relativity, and six before / the first wave of the Spanish flu / will kill, among the / 500 million infected, the painter, Egon Schiele
March 29, 2023
Evergreen
KEI LIM
At the tip of the mountain where / we scattered your ashes, then hers, / your father holds me / for the first time since I changed my name. / He gives me his old pocket knife— / the one meant for you with the hemlock handle.
At the tip of the mountain where / we scattered your ashes, then hers, / your father holds me / for the first time since I changed my name. / He gives me his old pocket knife— / the one meant for you with the hemlock handle.
March 22, 2023
Review: Bilbao-New York-Bilbao
NATASHA AYAZ
There is an undeniable poetry to transportation. The reverie of a train roping across land, the intrepidity of a boat charting depthless waters, the surrealism of an aircraft cutting through cloud—all tracing paths like storylines across terrain, all positioning the passenger as an Odyssean protagonist. In Bilbao-New York-Bilbao, Kirmen Uribe takes the family novel to the skies.
There is an undeniable poetry to transportation. The reverie of a train roping across land, the intrepidity of a boat charting depthless waters, the surrealism of an aircraft cutting through cloud—all tracing paths like storylines across terrain, all positioning the passenger as an Odyssean protagonist. In Bilbao-New York-Bilbao, Kirmen Uribe takes the family novel to the skies.
March 21, 2023
On Drowning
LONNIE LARSEN
On a Pacific Northwest wild-fire summer evening, Emmett and I drive the babysitter while the edges of the world burn. She’s chatty and optimistic about fall classes, but I’m distracted by the sun, which is Crayola-Orange, perfect circle, unnatural and eerie.
On a Pacific Northwest wild-fire summer evening, Emmett and I drive the babysitter while the edges of the world burn. She’s chatty and optimistic about fall classes, but I’m distracted by the sun, which is Crayola-Orange, perfect circle, unnatural and eerie.
March 16, 2023
Jamali Kamali Airborne in History
KAREN CHASE
Opening oneself to the unknown paves the way for a large exploration rather than the up-close details of “what I know.” The unknown is a wider plain—a big, flat, open space where options abound. The endless screen makes possible a roomier grasp of universals.
Opening oneself to the unknown paves the way for a large exploration rather than the up-close details of “what I know.” The unknown is a wider plain—a big, flat, open space where options abound. The endless screen makes possible a roomier grasp of universals.
March 15, 2023
Addis Ababa Beté
ABIGAIL MENGESHA
Steel kicks in this belly. // Girls with threadbare braids / weave between motor beasts and cement bags. // Tin roofs give way to glass columns. / Stretching as if to pet the clouds. // In the corners: cafés. // Where macchiatos are served / with a side of newspapers.
Steel kicks in this belly. // Girls with threadbare braids / weave between motor beasts and cement bags. // Tin roofs give way to glass columns. / Stretching as if to pet the clouds. // In the corners: cafés. // Where macchiatos are served / with a side of newspapers.
March 13, 2023
The Challenge of First Impressions: Lisa Wells Interviews Ted Conover
TED CONOVER
We have this giant challenge of first impressions, and this powerful distortion field created by our silos. It's not like I'm immune from this—I have my own silo. And in today's world, these silos have gained power to divide.
We have this giant challenge of first impressions, and this powerful distortion field created by our silos. It's not like I'm immune from this—I have my own silo. And in today's world, these silos have gained power to divide.
March 9, 2023
Translation: Excerpts from EVIL FLOWERS
GUNNHILD ØYEHAUG
To get to the top of the White Cliffs of Dover was not that hard. It was, in principle, just a matter of walking. Moving one foot in front of the other, up a narrow, romantic path through the green grass. The hardest part was getting to England in the first place.
To get to the top of the White Cliffs of Dover was not that hard. It was, in principle, just a matter of walking. Moving one foot in front of the other, up a narrow, romantic path through the green grass. The hardest part was getting to England in the first place.
