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Americans don’t generally think of the consequences of war. We have grown calloused souls, with the help of a duplicitous leadership, an inert Congress, a morally cloudy church, and the jingoistic media. Add to this our historically embedded racism and you have a poisonous brew indeed, hardening hearts against thought or concern for the slaughtered innocents of Iraq.
By Luke JanuszApril 1993It is Christmas Eve and I am visiting my dying father. He has been in bed since the robbery. The smell in his room is dark green, the odor of fermenting vegetables and flesh.
By Richard MesserMarch 1993I stood up and reeled. Blood washed from my brain. My vision began to shrink, and the people in the room seemed separated from me by some fold in the air.
By Karen BjornebyFebruary 1993January 1993When you’ve parked the second car in the garage, and installed the hot tub, and skied in Colorado, and wind-surfed in the Caribbean, when you’ve had your first love affair and your second and your third, the question will remain, where does the dream end?
Mario Cuomo
I meet with Mikhail Bazankov, a Russian novelist, who tells me the dissolution of the Soviet Union has been a mixed blessing for writers. With the Russian economy in shambles, he explains, it’s difficult to get books published and distributed.
By Sy SafranskyDecember 1992November 1992“Which foolish man was it who said love was simple?” she murmured. “Ah, yes, it was Rodolphe. But which Rodolphe?”
Leon Garfield
Hannah Arendt says a fundamental contradiction of the United States is political freedom coupled with social slavery.
By Sy SafranskyNovember 1992September 1992“You seem to be reacting to your boyfriend as if he were your father,” your shrink may say stonily (unless she is a strict Freudian, in which case she’ll shut up and wait until you think of it yourself, a process that usually takes ten years. This is why strict Freudians have such lovely summer houses.).
Cynthia Heimel
Not Jesus on the cross / but Jesus the boy / by himself, shivering, gazing into the water, / his hand cupping his scrotum, / the puzzling extra organ / attached outside his body. / I could believe in this Jesus.
By Chris BurskSeptember 1992There is something that loves you in the world. The voice that speaks to you within, in the worst despair, is not different from the voice that called the world into being.
By Catherine MadsenJune 1992Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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