Nonfiction
Summer 1995
Mary Butts: Lost … and Found
Literary history sometimes reads like archaeology, which, although another kind of historiography, presents some structural analogies to it. There are, for example, eras and epochs preserved from the past in […]
Fiction
Autumn 1979
Two Mythologems
Perceval So far, so good. From kindergarten on, the dossier shows progress, all my doings sans hitch or blemish. But how’s the selection made? A competition free to all comers, […]
Poetry
Autumn 1982
Hurrah for Trees!
From the Hungarian. When the Faithless One gave me the coldshoulder too, I found a hoarfrost bride,a small birch on the hilltop, and my blooddidn't go black. But my […]
Poetry
Spring 1982
The Bells Are Calling for Me
From the Hungarian. Bells, bells—worms cannot touch their lips. Bells can't be contaminated. The spasm of a stroke doesn't shake them. Coronaries don't kill them. Under sleeping stars and tolling […]