Category Archives: Books

The Beastie Boys Don’t Live Here Anymore

I tell myself stories in the dark, Anya. It helps. Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it makes things worse. Or keeps everything the same. Which is a different kind of worse. Anya I long to reach you only because I … Continue reading

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Osmosis

The coke parties were my favorite. It was when everyone was happiest. Everyone usually meant my mother, father, and their friends, Tony and Dina.    My mother would tell me—Tony and Dina are coming over tonight—and I knew that meant … Continue reading

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The Parlor

   The girl who was to give me the special massage was young. It was hard to say how young. She could have been twenty-five, could have been twelve. She also could have been one-hundred, or one-hundred and twenty, an … Continue reading

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Between Stations

   I was on the subway platform waiting for the train when I spotted a thin girl in torn jeans and bright green tank-top walking in my direction. Her hair was a bushel of unruliness. As the girl drew nearer … Continue reading

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The Factory

Review of Hiroko Oyamada’s award-winning debut novel, The Factory. The year was 1936, when an indefatigable tramp served as a working-class Virgil in guiding audiences through the hellscape of big business industry and assembly line madness. The tramp, of course, … Continue reading

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Surrealism in Paris

Review of Sue Roe’s In Montparnasse: The Emergence of Surrealism in Paris, from Duchamp to Dali A fish rides a bicycle into the Seine. The fish begins to drown and then remembers that it is a fish and starts to … Continue reading

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Still of the Night

It is like having a piece of hard existential candy lodged in your larynx while all around you voices demand the strictest means of geometry by which to constellate your semblance.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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Devils in Daylight

Review of Junichiro Tanizaki’s Devils in Daylight appearing in Riot Material. “I would call back at least for literature this world of shadows we are losing. In the mansion called literature I would have the eaves deep and the walls dark, … Continue reading

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Travelogue

She never did go anywhere, you know? Some ghosts become totemic stand-bys for the lives they never led, gloaming potentialties that passed, in solemn wisp, from dream to dream, then fade.   (Photo by Cindy Sherman)

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At Present

Everything dissolved anyway, was how she consoled herself. She would do something, she would plant yellow daisies in the garden first thing tomorrow morning, yellow seemed appropriate, yes, even though the idea of morning seemed far-off and left her feeling … Continue reading

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