Aminatu sometimes found comfort in the fact that no one there quite knew her. Their expectation of the things she should have done or could have been was not humiliatingly high. To most who met her, Aminatu was “that young African woman.” That, in its ambiguity, was manageable. So she combined whatever it was to be African with what she was inevitably coming to know as black in America.
He sank down and back then, buttoning a shirt he had thrust on, arranging objects from his pockets on the windowsill beside him, and began to eat a roll, after offering me one. Later when he went away to get some British illustrated papers about the removal of Yeats’s body to Ireland to show me, he brought back bananas, was very surprised when I didn’t want one, and rapidly ate both.
I am going to write in praise of the small. Not the miniature, which is an inverse of the monumental and thus, in its own way, monumental.
Philip D. Beidler on August Wilson, Mary Helen Specht on the critical power of cool, Harry Thomas on John Berryman and Ezra Pound, and a personal essay by Nigel Gearing. Plus: Diana Woodcock on Qatar, and Natania Rosenfeld on the value of miniatures.
Fiction by Olufunke Grace Bankole and Joe Ashby Porter.
Poetry by Kimberly Johnson, Michael Waters, Warren Slesinger, John Berryman, Christine Rhein, Michael Atkinson, Charles Harper Webb, Paula Bohince, Catherine Staples, and Sandra M. Gilbert.