It’s ingenious, the idea for this book. Francine Prose has written twenty-two works of fiction, and 1974 is her first memoir. She takes one year in her life and one dramatic relationship she formed in that year, and she tells you everything she wants to about being twenty-six back then. You can’t tell the difference between the voice of the girl she was and the voice of the person talking to you now. It’s a
Kamala is not an item on a menu, where you get to say hold the fries and I’ll have the salad instead. Do you know how many times people have written on my posts, I like your writing but I don’t always agree with you. Like I need to know this. I don’t need to know this. You only say this kind of thing to women so they will understand they are being chopped into
It’s funny that the first question from many people, when they hear a positive stance on transness, is “But what do you think about transgender people in women’s sports?” As if these interlocutors had any stake in women’s sports to begin with. As if the most pressing issue facing trans people today is athletic events. And as if keeping trans athletes out of competition is sacred, noble, the last bastion of women’s rights. In fact,
Alexey Brodovitch. The Sylphs (Les Sylphides), 1935–37. Art Institute of Chicago. Purchased with funds provided by Karen and Jim Frank. Image courtesy of Art Institute of Chicago / Art Resource, NY. In the go-go 1980s, the last decade when print magazines in the US rode high, the last decade before the internet took over time and space, I was given an impromptu lesson in how to be a team player. Or not. The bottom line:
The author and Kurt with Flyana Boss members Folayan Omi Kunerede (left) and Bobbi LaNea Taylor. Photo courtesy of Aline Mello. In my last year at the university, I finally started taking advantage of its discount ticket program. When I saw seats for a musical, I thought, Perfect, and got tickets for my friend Kurt and me. The show was Jesus Christ Superstar, which neither of us had ever seen. I was expecting something quirky
Through a bit of serendipity while researching women who’d spent time in maternity homes pre-Roe for a project with playwright Katie Cappiello, I was put in touch via email with Diane Gelon, an American attorney in London. Diane was immediately open to talking, and told me she’d always thought of herself as “one of the last to ‘go away,’ so to speak, although my going away was only to a home near downtown LA a
Dear Men, This is mostly a note to straight, cis men but it also goes out to trans men, queer men, and all who participate in masculinity. If you see yourself in these words, this is a love note to you. Patriarchy (the system in which those who are perceived to belong to the social role of “man” hold the power and those perceived to belong to the social role of “woman” are excluded from
January 29, 2024 To the editor of LIBER, One trend I observed while researching my book The World According to Joan Didion was people’s tendency to project themselves onto Didion. The writer had a strong moral center but also an intellectual empathy that made her adaptable to different ways of thinking, and that led her to frequently question her own received values. When S.C. Cornell declares the writer a conservative in her disappointingly inaccurate—could she
There’s something so American about Rae Armantrout’s poetry. It has the sudden breaks, the start-and-stop of Emily Dickinson; the direct colloquial speaking voice of William Carlos Williams; the abstract playfulness of John Ashbery. Her poems offer a constant sense of reinvention, and an invitation to the reader to make it all up along with the poet that I think of as America’s gift to poetry. This is a poet who puts her secrets on the
At around seven weeks of pregnancy, a mucus glob forms in the cervix and turns it from funnel into stopper. This blood-tinged plug keeps the baby in utero and anything lurking in your vagina out. When the evocatively named “bloody show” discharges, it’s time for the main event. I learned the term a few months before giving birth the first time, after which I shoved the gory mucus plug into the back of my consciousness-closet,
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