November 2018
Elephants, Horses, and the Proportions of Paradise
What does a perfect elephant look like? This was a question that occupied the Flemish artist Crispijn van de Passe II in the years around 1620. By then, several elephants had visited the European continent...
Read MoreFor Sale: Immortality
There’s no surer sign that life has become too comfortable for the rich than when they try to buy immortality.
Read MoreJoseph Conrad on Books
“I have not read this author’s books, and if I have read them I have forgotten what they were about.” These words are reported as having been uttered in our midst..
Read MoreRachel Howard: Thirty-Eight
The other day a card arrived: a picture of mother, father, and child, teeth bared, cheeks pulsing with fresh blood. The baby looks more like him, with that nearly translucent-white skin.
Read MoreMooching Nibbles
I dreamed the American dream,” Anthony Scaramucci writes in his memoir, “Trump, the Blue-Collar President,” a work of Trump hagiography that also recounts the Mooch’s rise...
Read MoreTruffling Perfumes
While writing my master’s thesis on DeLillo’s Underworld, I reached a strange level of intimacy with the book.
Read MoreCzesław Miłosz’s Century: Berfrois Interviews Andrzej Franaszek
As you can imagine, there was no need to edit much in his articles. But I would ask him if he was sure about something. Miłosz was very willing to write and work...
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The tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
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The thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
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I spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
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The tea should be strong. For a pot holding a quart, if you are going to fill it nearly to the brim, six heaped teaspoons would be about right...
Read More
The thing about new blooms is that they tend to bleed— / Those petals birthed / hugging close / that come warmer weather are tricked into jumping away...
Read More
I spent a good part of my childhood at home staring outside my bedroom window, following the trail of planes approaching the nearby Paris airport in the sky from my banlieue. I envied the passengers...
Read More