“P. S. I had my picture taken by a Mr. Breitenbach Tuesday.” Reading through One Art, a selection of Elizabeth Bishop’s letters claimed by its editor, Robert Giroux, to be tantamount to the poet’s autobiography, I came upon . . .
In December 2010, as chair of the Writers in Prison Committee of PEN International, I was invited to attend the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony in Oslo to celebrate the ideals that we in PEN also share and work for—freedom of . . .
Rarely, my ex would sing to me, I don’t know what scale he used, maybe Arab, seventeen steps to the octave, or Chinese, five. It was microtonal a- harmonic, its staff was of the bass clef, but I don’t know . . .
Cajun Music: A Reflection of a People, Volume 1, Compiled and edited by Ann Allen Savoy The first thing is the photographs. A book like this, you flip through and stare at a lot of faces. Of men, and . . .
One Hundred Years of Solitude reached its fortieth year in plenty of company not long ago. The celebrations that took place in Colombia—and with less hullabaloo in the rest of the Spanish-speaking world—had a level of redundancy that struck me . . .