Jennifer Acker's Blog, page 70
October 22, 2021
Podcast: Nariman Youssef on Arabic Translations from Morocco
NARIMAN YOUSSEF
Nariman Youssef speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about her work translating three short stories from Arabic for The Common’s portfolio of fiction from Morocco, in the spring issue. In this conversation, Nariman talks about the conscious and unconscious decisions a translator makes.
Nariman Youssef speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about her work translating three short stories from Arabic for The Common’s portfolio of fiction from Morocco, in the spring issue. In this conversation, Nariman talks about the conscious and unconscious decisions a translator makes.
Published on October 22, 2021 07:00
October 21, 2021
October 2021 Poetry Feature: Sasha Stiles
SASHA STILES
Are you ready for the future? / If you are, today is your day. And when tomorrow hits you like a ton of bricks, you’ll appreciate today even more. Because in reality, tomorrow is a line you walk towards, and now is a line you never see. But you just didn’t see it yet. Reflect.
Are you ready for the future? / If you are, today is your day. And when tomorrow hits you like a ton of bricks, you’ll appreciate today even more. Because in reality, tomorrow is a line you walk towards, and now is a line you never see. But you just didn’t see it yet. Reflect.
Published on October 21, 2021 06:00
October 20, 2021
Writing from the Arabian Gulf: The Common’s Issue 22 Launch
On November 3rd at 4:30pm EDT, join The Common for the virtual launch of Issue 22! Contributors Mona Kareem, Keija Parssinen, Tariq al Haydar, and Deepak Unnikrishnan will join us from all around the world to read their pieces from our Arabian Gulf portfolio followed, by a conversation about place and culture.
Published on October 20, 2021 08:55
Delete/Recover
AKWE AMOSU
You can put your faith / in a book, pray from it, place it / under a sick child’s pillow, press / flowers between the leaves, / affirm love for the living, be / in the swim of things, learn / what is human from its pages / and become that. The book / will restore you, / reciprocate.
You can put your faith / in a book, pray from it, place it / under a sick child’s pillow, press / flowers between the leaves, / affirm love for the living, be / in the swim of things, learn / what is human from its pages / and become that. The book / will restore you, / reciprocate.
Published on October 20, 2021 06:00
October 19, 2021
They Call Me The Ambassador
RICHARD GWYN
Leaving behind the clamor of Mexico City, I catch a bus and cross the wide altiplano. Behind the tinted windows are strewn the blackened remains of trees and cactus, upon which perch large, dark birds. Half asleep on the silent bus, which plows like an ocean liner across the prairie.
Leaving behind the clamor of Mexico City, I catch a bus and cross the wide altiplano. Behind the tinted windows are strewn the blackened remains of trees and cactus, upon which perch large, dark birds. Half asleep on the silent bus, which plows like an ocean liner across the prairie.
Published on October 19, 2021 06:00
October 15, 2021
Fugues, Evidence, and Arguments: A Poet Finds His Way
RALPH SNEEDEN
In this interview, Ralph Sneeden traces his journey as a poet and essayist, avoiding the destructiveness of being pigeonholed, the inherent politicality of landscapes, and drawing from a pool of resources and poetic techniques.
In this interview, Ralph Sneeden traces his journey as a poet and essayist, avoiding the destructiveness of being pigeonholed, the inherent politicality of landscapes, and drawing from a pool of resources and poetic techniques.
Published on October 15, 2021 06:00
October 14, 2021
Sometimes the Ocean Loves Too Much
SARAH JANE CODY
My thirteen-year-old sister, Mara, wakes me to tell me that she is dead. She believes this. I’m twelve, the younger one, though the age difference has never really mattered between us. In the dimness of our bedroom, she’s pressed close to me, her skin warm and a bit sweaty.
My thirteen-year-old sister, Mara, wakes me to tell me that she is dead. She believes this. I’m twelve, the younger one, though the age difference has never really mattered between us. In the dimness of our bedroom, she’s pressed close to me, her skin warm and a bit sweaty.
Published on October 14, 2021 06:00
October 13, 2021
Review: All Morning the Crows by Meg Kearney
HOWARD LEVY
While the poems do not make much of birds’ migratory behaviors, this book charts the migration of this woman poet/speaker from an unknowable and loss-filled world to a world of love and serenity and song.
While the poems do not make much of birds’ migratory behaviors, this book charts the migration of this woman poet/speaker from an unknowable and loss-filled world to a world of love and serenity and song.
Published on October 13, 2021 06:00
October 8, 2021
Podcast: Ricardo Wilson on “nigrescence”
RICARDO WILSON
Ricardo Wilson speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about his poem, “nigrescence,” which appears in The Common’s spring issue. In this conversation, Ricardo talks about his new collection Apparent Horizon and Other Stories, winner of the PANK Book Contest in fiction.
Ricardo Wilson speaks to managing editor Emily Everett about his poem, “nigrescence,” which appears in The Common’s spring issue. In this conversation, Ricardo talks about his new collection Apparent Horizon and Other Stories, winner of the PANK Book Contest in fiction.
Published on October 08, 2021 06:25
October 7, 2021
Translation and Q&A: Ida Vitale’s The Sensitive Toad
IDA VITALE
From the bottom step, where the stairs rise from the stone path between two patches of grass, Byobu sees a toad cross in front of him, hopping from green to green. It’s followed by another, just as quick.
From the bottom step, where the stairs rise from the stone path between two patches of grass, Byobu sees a toad cross in front of him, hopping from green to green. It’s followed by another, just as quick.
Published on October 07, 2021 06:00