While Andrei is securing the box full of guns, Natasha and I get in the car. It’s a black SUV four-by-four, streaked with scratches, raised on huge, flinty tires. She takes the passenger seat, I clamber in the back; I’m . . .
Mavis Gallant had no natural constituency. Her childhood transplantings left her without early allegiances to population or place. At the time of her emergence as a writer, Canada had a small serious readership and a low regard for women artists, . . .
Princess Anna Arkadyevna Karenina
When I was fifteen, I once hid out in a train station overnight. Although the ticket window was closed, and there was no one around, the waiting room was open. From a giant vent in the . . .
Before the play, by way of introduction, some cast notes:
Wilbert Marcelin (Male Voice Three) used to tap dance on Bourbon Street, just blocks from the Iberville Projects in New Orleans where he grew up, until he became interested in . . .
Brick published an interview with Mavis Gallant in issue 80 (Winter 2007/8) that was as endlessly layered as any of her stories. It was conducted in French by Contact presenter Stéphan Bureau and translated by Wyley Powell, and we weren’t . . .