Adiós to My Parents

Aguilar Camín varnishes his sentences with great perceptiveness and lyrical grace, and there is an almost effortless beauty and tremendous sensitivity to his prose, which makes reading his work particularly gratifying. Transporting the reader to places like Asturias and Mexico City to retrace the origins of his parents and grandparents, he invokes artistic license to depict not merely the locales but also their impressions of the place.

All the Wild Hungers: A Season of Cooking and Cancer

These sixty-four brief, carefully wrought essays center on the writer’s mother’s battle with cancer and on Babine’s use of cooking as a tool to cope. When her mother gets sick, Babine begins a delightful, quirky search to collect cookware—specifically colorful, vintage Le Creuset pieces that she gives names like Estelle and Agnes and Penelope Pumpkin.

The People’s Exhibit

Photo by Boston Public Library   Dedicated to the memory of Gordon Smith The story comes in pieces, and you must think and weigh and assess and form your own impressions. Reserve judgment. Imagine other possibilities. Listen. You must delete from your memory that which was stricken from the record, which called for speculation, which […]

On Contemporary Art

On Contemporary Art isn’t a critique of its subject but a discussion of its situation. Today, the idea of demarcating artistic movements has faded; after a century of artists, academics and critics culturally categorizing every new wave (die Brücke, de Stijl, Postimpressionism, Neo-Expressionism, and so on), Aira declares “the carnival of names [has] been shut down” and replaced by an empty, auction house-approved label.

On Worry

Then, on October 8, a bubble cone began to rise from the earth at one corner of the village. Cracks appeared in fields. The resident administrator to the United Kingdom watched as a cluster of grazing sheep fell into the earth, and, a minute later, the earth seamed itself together, eating the sheep. This, he believed, was the start of a new volcano. He radioed the Royal Navy for help, and a ship set off from Cape Town to help evacuate the islanders. That night, residents camped in tents, as far from the volcanic activity as they could go on the small island. The air was wet with drizzle.