G. R. Swenson protests MOMA with a ? / Pita Amor in neon lights / Fame and Rejection / Saul Bellow’s letters from a safe-deposit box / Looking for Natalie de Blois on Park Avenue / The last years of Black Mountain College / Elena Ferrante and the art of concealment / Merce Cunningham dances / On the life of studios / The architecture of freedom
No. 23 • Vénus Khoury-GhataWho will find lost time / who will tie it to the foot of the bed.
No. 23An out-of-print book discovered in the one dollar cart at a used bookstore leads to the rediscovery of an acclaimed writer, her unpublished work, and a forty year correspondence with Saul Bellow in a safe-deposit box in Tulsa, Oklahoma.
No. 23 • Bette HowlandAt last it had dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. I was always rolling these stones from my grave.
No. 23 • Jacob HowlandThirty-one, a single mother of two young sons, she labored at her typewriter day and night, worked part time as a librarian and an editor for the University of Chicago Press, and often threw bills directly into the trash.
No. 23 • Bette HowlandI was wondering what the chances might be of undertaking a crash course in self-improvement here in Eternity. Not so hot.
No. 23 • Bette HowlandEdna is no American Bovary. She is American—period. The American heroine on her quest for experience, in all her problematic American innocence and ignorance.
No. 23 • Saul BellowOne should cook and eat one’s misery. Chain it like a dog. Harness it like Niagara Falls to generate light and supply voltage for electric chairs.
No. 23 • Bette HowlandAnd yet I found myself reacting to her in the same way—noticing all through the meal that she seemed to talk only when her mouth was full and her cheek was bulging like a fist. As if she were chewing a quid of tobacco, and about to squirt. Alarming.
No. 23 • Ana Hatherly
No. 23 • Friederike MayröckerI let myself be carried by my language as if it were endowed with tiny wings.
No. 23 • Mark HageYou listen to the wind's instructions, its steady siege.
No. 23 • Rosemary TonksSin pricks me like a convict’s suit of arrows / For here my evil, blue, and moody youth / Has found its old lair.
No. 23 • Yang JiangWe have thrown ourselves into the cause, body and soul.
No. 23 • Susie MeeCannot we create a new world by emptying this one out and adding fresh colors one by one?
No. 23 • Isobel and Michael ArmstrongIt was absolutely revolutionary and liberating, and so full of possible experiment.
No. 23 • Annie Coggan
No. 23 • Rosalyn DrexlerNever in the course of history has a work of art disposed of itself. A strange suicide indeed.
No. 23 • Martha KingBaz and I had Fame and Rejection. We lived in a flow of contradiction.
No. 23 • Lina Bo Bardi
No. 23 • Antonio RomaniConcealment, discretion, secrecy: I found myself thinking of Epicurus’s advice, lathe biosas: “live in obscurity.”
No. 23 • Etel AdnanI peeled every trace of light off the walls. Withdrew into blurred definitions.
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