TOBI'S DESK

Every week, the editors of  The Paris Review  lift the paywall on a selection of interviews, stories, poems, and more from the magazine’s archive. You can have these unlocked pieces delivered straight to your inbox every Sunday by  signing up for the Redux newsletter .     This week, we bring you Janet Malcolm’s 2011 Writers at Work interview , Dante Troisi’s short story, “ Diary of a Judge ,” and Devin Johnston’s poems “ Means of Escape .” Janet Malcolm, The Art of Nonfiction No. 4 Issue no. 196 (Spring 2011) Trials offer exceptional opportunities for the exercise of journalistic heartlessness. The antagonists in trials lend themselves to the kind of cold scrutiny that few people can withstand. Trial transcripts are cruel documents. The court stenographer dutifully records everything she hears and what appears on the page often reads like something from the theater of the absurd. The court scenes in The Journalist and the Murde...

Ernst Ludwig Kirchner, Czardas dancers , 1908 Inside an old brick building in Somerville’s Davis Square, below the gilded stage and the red velvet seats, there is an unusual museum. Hidden in the basement of the 1914 Art Deco building is a collection of hideous paintings and disturbing drawings otherwise known as the Museum of Bad Art . “You wont ever see this stuff in the Museum of Fine Arts,” says curator Michael Frank. Frank is the kind of guy who can’t pass a yard sale or a flea market without stopping to browse. He loves ugly things, but for him, ugly is a problematic word. “When I read your email, I thought ‘uh oh,’” he admits. “Calling something ugly is like calling something beautiful. The minute you say it you’re in a difficult spot, trying to define what that really means .” Frank prefers to think of these paintings as “badart,” one word, no hyphen. Badart is not the inverse of “good art,” it’s the inverse of “important art.” Some might call these pieces “outsider art” a...

When I was a child growing up in Guatemala during the Civil War, my mom took me to play at my friend’s house late one night. She told me not to ask any questions. “Just play,” she said. While our mothers sat downstairs talking in hushed voices, my friend took me into his closet to tell me quietly that armed men had surrounded their car earlier that day, threatening kidnapping or worse if they did not pay. We sat in the dark closet, crying, shooting our toy guns at nothing and everything, afraid and angry. My friend’s family fled the country. Some time later, men dressed in army fatigues kidnapped a cousin in our family for ransom. They returned him without physical harm, but not without emotional damage—his wife passed away not long after and our cousin hired security personnel. You could never be sure whether these were military, paramilitary, guerrilla, or mercenary cells targeting families. I had yet to read an account that could begin to touch on the looming presence of dread fami...

On memory, inherited trauma, and my grandmother Crystal Hana Kim and her grandmother When I was almost two years old, my grandmother flew from Hongcheon, South Korea to Flushing, Queens to take care of me. For a few years, while my parents worked, I spent my hours with Halmuni. I do not remember how we colored our days, but I press my thumb onto the photographs of that time. I smudge their borders and try to return to a forgotten past. In one glossy, blurry photograph, I am paper-crowned with a waxy, yellow Burger King wrapper laid out before me, a rounded bun raised to my open mouth. Halmuni does not eat; instead, the camera catches her watching me. A tender, unsmiling gaze. When I examine this picture, I am convinced I remember. That crown, I think. Yes. I remember the thick gold paper with the Burger King logo, the jewels on the rounded arches. But the crown in the photograph is blue, and that unexpected color unbalances me. My confidence slips. Perhaps I am remembering a diffe...

Yvonne Adhiambo Owuor’s first novel, Dust, published in 2014 by Kwani? in Kenya and by Penguin Random House worldwide, focused on a troubled family. A man, Odidi Oganga, is killed on the streets of Nairobi; his sister, Ajany, returns from Brazil, and with their father bring his body home, bent on investigating his life and death: […] from Brittle Paper https://ift.tt/2v1GbyI

When I got my hands on an advanced reader’s edition of Crystal Hana Kim ’s If You Leave Me a few months ago, I couldn’t believe my luck. With my own debut novel coming out this summer, I’d been following book coverage closely and making note of titles I wanted to read the most. If You Leave Me , out Aug. 7, was at the top of my list. Over the next few days, I became completely absorbed by the forbidden love story of Haemi and Kyunghwan, their complicated ties to Kyunghwan’s cousin, Jisoo, and a rich portrait of war-torn Korea. This is a novel of epic proportions whose tone shifts agilely over time, following the lives of its characters and the devastating consequences of war. It’s full of longing and hard truths, and when I finished it I was in solid agreement with the buzz surrounding If You Leave Me , naming Crystal Hana Kim as a talented writer to watch. I was surprised to find that If You Leave Me shared some striking similarities with my own novel, What We Were Promised. Set ...

Out this week:  The Incendiaries  by  R.O. Kwon ;  Fruit of the Drunken Tree  by  Ingrid Rojas Contreras ;  The Marvellous Equations of the Dread  by  Marcia Douglas ;  Immigrant, Montana   by  Amitava Kumar ; and  Brother  by  David Chariandy . Want to learn more about upcoming titles? Then go read our  brand new book preview . Want to help  The Millions  keep churning out great books coverage? Then  become a member  today. The post Tuesday New Release Day: Kwon; Contreras; Douglas; Kumar; Chariandy appeared first on The Millions . from The Millions https://ift.tt/2v60qv2

EVERY DAY I watch them walk back home wet with the smell of the market, trays balanced on their heads. It will rain. It will not. The truth is here: nothing prepared us for the moment when their bones shivered like lovers ready to part from each other. By the door they peel off their […] from Brittle Paper https://ift.tt/2vm3Mto

(1) Lara fell on her knees and shut her eyes, waiting for the wailing storm to pass. A dark ferocious wind circled her and lifted her into mid-air.  It held her for a nanosecond and then dropped her. She fell flat on her back and became unconscious for a timeless period. It circled her still, … Continue reading She-devil EP 1 → from NaijaStories.com https://ift.tt/2LZlQk1

Summer Sensuality In vain or in for love We do these things for self To hold and fulfill our sweetest taste Every desire Paste here Never waiting to be eaten alive Patience lacking I guess that what’s giving in means Letting sin take control   Controlled beyond senses We let in the unknown of self … Continue reading Summer Sensuality → from NaijaStories.com https://ift.tt/2v1P8YJ

I dash towards danger as you scurry away, I sheath my fear and face the foe. Against my nature I’ve become nocturnal Prowling the streets to keep evil at bay; My family lays tossing and turning , Hoping each day for my safe return. As the blood pours from my wounded chest, The bullet cold … Continue reading Soja → from NaijaStories.com https://ift.tt/2NVaMox