Photo courtesy of Jules Weitz.
America
This afternoon I am well, thank you.
Walking down Main Street in Danville, KY.
The heavy wind so sensuous.
Last night I fell-
ated four different men back in
Philadelphia season lush and slippery
with time and leaves.
Keep your eyes to yourself, yid.
As a kid, I pledged only to engage
in onanism on special holidays.
Luckily, America.
We think 15 years of The Common is worth celebrating, and we want you to be there when we do! Join us for a conversation, Q&A, and book signing at the Brooklyn Book Festival this September.
Our special guests will include Emily Everett, TC managing editor and author of the Reese’s Book Club Pick All That Life Can Afford; Olivia Wolfgang-Smith, former TC social media editor and author of the novel Mutual Interest; Annell López, author of the story collection I’ll Give You a Reason; and Ananda Lima, author of Craft: Stories I Wrote for the Devil. Come hear these writers discuss how themes of home, immigration, and belonging reverberate in their recent work. After the conversation, we’ll have an audience Q&A and book signing.
Tickets are free, but be sure to RSVP here to reserve your spot. Please share this with anyone who might be interested. We’d love to have a full house.
Not local? Don’t worry! The entire event will be live-streamed on Youtube, so you’ll be able to hear these amazing authors speak from wherever you are in the world. We hope to see you there!
Lena Moses-Schmitt (left) and Megan Pinto (right)
When we listen to language, what do we hear? When we look at an image, what do we see? LENA MOSES-SCHMITT’s poetry beautifully captures the nature of perception. Her lyric-narrative meditations are interested in the mind’s movement across the field (visual, sonic) and the page. Moses-Schmitt writes in “The Hill”: “This morning I heard the man/ who lives downstairs say I love you to the woman–/not the words, but the rhythm, the shape, and I filled in the rest/ as if with red crayon.” Her debut collection, True Mistakes, moves between perception and imagination, the grieving for and the making of a life. MEGAN PINTO sat down with Lena Moses-Schmitt on a sunny June afternoon in Brooklyn. They marveled at the light through the leaves and drank cold seltzers with bitters. Their conversation shifted from superhero alter egos to how poetry sustains them through life’s many blips and heartbreaks.
By TOM ROSS
Review by TERESE SVOBODA
My copy of Miss Abracadabra is appallingly dogeared in my attempt to mark its most exquisite parts. Although amazed to discover that this is Tom Ross’ debut novel, I am not surprised that the venerable Deep Vellum published it. Miss Abracadabra is only the second novel they’ve taken on in twelve years that’s not a translation. What magic did Miss Abracadabra conjure to convince them?
By EMILIA PARDO BAZÁN
Translated from the Spanish by ALANI HICKS-BARTLETT
The piece appears below in both English and the original Spanish.
Translator’s Note
Emilia Pardo Bazán’s short story “A secreto agravio…,” which I have translated here as “For A Secret Grievance…,” emerges, in part, from Pardo Bazán’s vibrant and perspicacious reimagining of another important work: “A secreto agravio, secreta venganza” [“For a Secret Grievance, a Secret Vengeance”], an Early Modern play written by the Spanish playwright and priest, Pedro Calderón de la Barca (1600-1681), and printed in 1637. Calderón’s tragedy, one of an unfortunate “trilogy” of wife-murder plays he authored featuring a fatal confluence of jealousy, suspicion, and problems of fidelity that led to the wife’s unjustifiable death, was hugely popular on the premodern stage while also being in dialogue with a wider genre of plays featuring uxoricide and conflicts of honor and faith (we might think of “Othello,” for example).
By CLARA CHIU
Photo courtesy of author.
Amherst, Massachusetts
I. Tablecloth Winter
We are holding the edges of the fabric,
throwing the center into the air.
& even in dusk this cloth
billowing over our heads
makes a souvenir of home:
mother & child in snowglobe.
Yet we are warm here, beneath
this dome, & what light slips through
drapes the dining room white.
New work from GEOFFREY BROCK, GRAY DAVIDSON CARROLL, DOLORES HAYDEN, JAMES RICHARDSON, and JULIA LISELLA.
Table of Contents:
By AIDAN COOPER
Photo courtesy of author.
Boston, MA
After Frank O’Hara
Father’s Day, it’s 8 a.m. & I’m late on the road
to Boston because I drooled too much sleeping
I’m driving to a Red Sox game, yes I’ll go
because my dad at one point liked the pitcher
& the tank’s too full to not go
when I reach the MFA beehiving with students
I wonder what’s on & it’s Van Gogh’s Roulin Family Portraits
& I want to park there in case I have time to peruse
but it’s 50 bucks & I’m seeing my family anyway
so I circle Huntington until I find an empty spot
on Parker & it’s Sunday so I’m off the hook
& I don’t thank God pay a thing
Transcript: Maria Rigg Podcast.
MARIAH RIGG speaks to managing editor EMILY EVERETT about her story “Target Island,” which appears in The Common’s spring issue. “Target Island” is a story from her short story collection Extinction Capital of the World, out August 5 from Ecco; both focus on the islands of Hawai’i. Mariah talks about the process of writing and revising this story and the collection as a whole, and why reflecting contemporary Hawai’i is important to her work. Mariah also discusses playing with time and narrative flow in her stories, and working on a new project—her first novel.
The Reading Life is a special 15th-anniversary essay series reflecting on close reading and re-reading, written by The Common’s Editorial Board.
Whenever I’ve been asked to join a book club, I’ve given a stock answer: No thanks, my life is already a book club. As an English professor who had led class discussions about books for decades, I had acquired an arrogant persona: I was someone who told other people what to read, not the other way around. Yes, I was grateful for book recommendations by certain discerning friends. But any sort of public gathering in which everyone got a democratic turn to assign the others a book, however far it ranged from one’s own interests, and then most members had to pretend to enjoy the book more than they had, was my definition of a lousy party.
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