Three millennial writers probe inner male conflict while the patriarch Achebe looks on.
A couple finds their hired tour guide more sage for hire—like Socrates, an ambulatory pedagogue.
Though the feminist response to the war on women had been building in Mexico for years, in 2019 it reached a boiling point. If what was known about gender violence had been a portolans—the medieval map that only outlined the coast—the individual stories of women were now providing the dreadful details of the inland.
“I don’t think fate has anything so marvelously exceptional in store for us. We’ll get on the plane. There will be no terrorists, no depressive pilot, no defective motor, no thunderstorm to bring us down. The car is going to work fine.” - from Monsters (An Excerpt) by Stéphane Bouquet
“She opened her hands, freeing for a moment her gaze, then closed them immediately. She did this for some time.
‘It’s so big that I can only look at it bit by bit.’” - from “Margherita,” by Roberto Carretta
In this story by an indigenous writer from the southern Philippines, a crime continues to haunt a local’s thoughts.
In this interview, conducted by Tiffany Hawk, Robin Hemsley explores the notions of borders, nationhood, and identity, bringing readers to a number of in-between places, from a Bengali resettlement camp in India, to a preposterously extravagant Chinese mansion smack in the middle of a destitute village, to a painstakingly fabricated indoor rainforest in Nebraska.
In this conversation, Isabel Fargo Cole and Andrea Bryant consider the roles that historical context, location, and translation play in her writing.
An interview with multifaceted Rojava writer Taha Khalil, as he worked both in Qamishlo, Rojava, where he continues to reside, and in the Duhok Province of neighboring Iraqi Kurdistan, where he is presently working as the art director for a film directed by his brother, the prominent Kurdish filmmaker Mano Khalil.
“A force now daunts the world’s muscle: / universal, interchangeable. A blight / in bloom, rootless smoothing // the grass-strewn crust,” from “Easter Sunday, Rajab in Mid-Moon,” by Khaled Mattawa
“That whistling was the wind. / It is wise enough to know / when to fly by / and where to sting.” from “War,” by Mohamad Nassereddine
“the human soul is contemptible, leviathan. you better hang in my dark face.” from “to hide here and kiss a beloved is not sin enough,” by Merve Çanak
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