Putting aside the scurvy, wooden fingers, and telepathic seagulls, Our Flag Means Death is a show about outcasts for outcasts. It’s silly, sometimes irreverent, but brilliantly tender. It’s not just a rom-com or situational comedy; it’s a queer elegy—honoring those outcasts in history who chose to risk their lives for freedom and perhaps even love.
Jenny Offill’s casually devastating new novel “Weather” is a lovely, quietly ticking timebomb.
If you find that you are the type of person who is constantly at war with these two alternating states of self—where obligations can be ditched at a moment’s notice, or begrudgingly followed through—then you will feel right at home in the world of “Imaginary Museums” by Nicolette Polek.
The aging bad boy of French letters’ latest outing exhausts nearly half its word count rehashing tired material. Then, when an antidepressant finally renders his narrator impotent, it picks up.
What is striking about Lerner’s third novel is the way it implicates itself, its forms—literature, prose, poetry—in the collapse of public discourse, and the proliferation of “man-children.”
Open the pages of King Arthur, though, and it’s apparent that we’re very far away from New York. We’re in Camelot.
Recklessness looks a lot like bravery.
Reality becomes myth, then that myth becomes legend. That’s the spectacle of Karen Russell’s “Orange World”.
Louis aims his accusation squarely at France’s ruling class, leaving little doubt as to whom he considers responsible for the charge leveled in the title of his new nonfiction j’accuse.
Life is all about taking chances: asking your crush out, jumping out of a plane, adding (roasted) almonds to your salad.
I dropped my things and immediately cracked the first hundred pages. It was classic Knausgaard: endless descriptions of diapers changed, emails checked, and cigarettes smoked.
Stay Awake and See Moonlight
Alex R. Hibbert, Ashton Sanders and Trevante Rhodes play the protagonist at three different stages of his life. It’s 1:43 a.m., and I can’t sleep. I just saw Moonlight and so should you. […]
“May God help you, young girl, to wash the linen sheet.” The village of Puvovocia, Lithuania is in the region called the Land Of Songs. Its voice, both solemn and playful, reaches from the […]
I Dreamed I Was a Very Clean Tramp by Richards Meyers (2013, Harper Collins) Richard Hell would tell you he invented New York Punk Rock. And he does tell us this along with many […]
12th Street is proud to feature Maximilian Mueller among our artists in Issue 7 of our print journal, which launches on April 30th at Barnes & Noble in Union Square. Please visit https://www.12thstreetonline.com/events/ for details! […]
Artist Statement: I’ve always wanted to be a painter. I’m so easily overwhelmed and moved by the things I see and feel, I dream about how they might cathartically manifest on a canvas. Alas, I […]
Fragments 1968-2012 at the Casey Kaplan gallery is prominent Italian artist, Giorgio Griffa’s, first New York solo show since 1970. The exhibition, an exploration of the quiet act of painting, presents a selection of […]
The geography of a place is grounded, however fleetingly by physical structures, and waiting for a kinetic kick-start by the people in it to open it up into becoming a space.
If the news is anything to be believed: Egypt is a nation in a state of more or less constant political and social strife; Egyptians are nearly all Islamists, coercing the few and far between […]
Midway through Joan Didion’s memoir Blue Nights, she recognizes tone as though it were a found object held in her hand— a photograph of her daughter Quintana Roo, who died in 2009. It’s not stoicism that keeps her from staring at it but more of a kind of nimbleness (or agility?) of mind, flipping through a book of sketches of when Quintana was three years old, of when she got married—the stephanotis woven into her braid—and ultimately, when she passed away.
