The novelists on Vietnam, Norman Mailer, and the dragon’s perspective.
The crisply constructed short stories for which David Means has become renowned are high and tight. His new—and first—novel, Hystopia, is something shaggier, departing, in its theoretical approach, from the New Yorker School of Fiction for the emerging field of narrative medicine, in which testimonies of trauma are inherently wooly and chaotic rather than refined and concise.
“I never could’ve predicted that these burly men clad in leather and chains, riding these metal ponies, could be that wracked by stuff and live with actual ghosts.”
A painter colleague, Fabian Marcaccio, uses a phrase to describe a certain kind of artist. He says that they are “long runners.” Stanley Whitney is a long runner.
After designing and building what he regards as an improved M16 in his studio, Jameson Ellis reduced the act of firing a gun to “pure functionality” at the Salomon Contemporary.
In Jeremy Deller’s project “It Is What It Is: Conversations About Iraq” journalists, veterans, refugees and scholars converse about their experiences over the past ten years.
The narrator is Charlie Weir, a New York psychiatrist. The year is 1979.
The celebrated playwright and author converses with theater producer Morphos (behind, most recently, Sam Shepard’s The God of Hell), about his book of short stories, A Primitive Heart. In all of Rabe’s work, the past haunts his protagonist.
Joe Fyfe on how Tran Luong’s political past in Vietnam inspires healing in his performances and installations.
The man the world knows as Champion came into being on February 26, 1964. Cassius Clay had just defeated Sonny Liston and taken the heavyweight title and he announced his involvement with the Nation of Islam to the press.
American poet Yusef Komunyakaa and Irish poet Paul Muldoon talk of T. S. Eliot and racism, poetry and music, Native Americans and the self—as a writer and a reader—in a culture that is as global as it is specific.
Twenty-three years and multiple producers later, Gast finally edited his 300,000 feet of film into a taut and stirring 90 minutes, attesting as much to his own tenacity and perseverance as his star’s.
A. M. Homes speaks to the master storyteller of This Boy’s Life, In Pharaoh’s Army and a book of stories, The Night in Question.
Survived the war but
was having trouble
She had thought for sometime that all she needed was a little rest.
Novelist Stephen Wright does not simply tell a story. He takes the basic form of the novel and turns it inside out. His novels such as, Going Native, expose the strange and intriguing lives of characters that would normally fade into the background.
“That to me is what writing is—to try and strip away the layers.”
James Rosenquist, one of the key American Pop Artists, has been making and showing his paintings for several decades. His early ’60s work, like that of Warhol and Lichtenstein, provides a seductive but critical mirror image of the mass media.