These three stories by legendary writer Ryūnosuke Akutagawa were translated from the original Japanese by Ryan C.K. Choi.
These essays, stories, poems, interviews, and reviews were among our most-read posts in 2018.
It’s as if Mario Montalbetti is daring his reader to seek permanence in poetry’s aftermath, to maintain remembrance in spite of the difficulty.
Kathryn Harrison says, with a wink to the reader: “I feel no allegiance to this hypothetical child who complicates what is simple.”
First flower, or nearly./ No one forces it to do anything./ This is the backdrop.
At its best, art can spur change in itself; it can shift discourse, inspire protest and even destabilize the mechanisms of oppression. Right?
Reading No Budu Please is like committing to the excavation of the continual traumas that occur within a post-colonial consciousness.
There are cameras in the cacti, drones in the sky, motion sensors buried in the ground: a Panopticon without limit or form.
What killed her/ knew the scent of her center well, knew how to woo her/ and did.
Reading Amparo Dávila’s stories is like accepting an invitation for tea at a haunted house.
When the call came late one evening, Dan assumed it was news of just another death.
As Smarsh unfolds her family's story, she offers sharp commentary on the structures that both shame the poor and perpetuate the cycle of poverty.