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From Stephen Elliott
What is the impact on the human condition when we expect to have everything we want, whenever we want it?
So asks Zach Rogue in the first issue of Radio Silence. This is the question that will define my generation, and a question that I have struggled with for my entire adult life.
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The book fair was the highlight of AWP Chicago for me. Sure, there was the misguided, and somewhat enraging debate over John D’Agata’s The Lifespan of a Fact, or the fascinating discussion of the modern essay as it relates to Virginia Woolf and her contemporaries, or Ben Percy’s creepy/awesome reading of a story about a bear that kills a family in their house—also all highlights.
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Reading Esopus is more akin to walking around an art gallery than flipping through a publication. While technically a magazine, in the sense that it’s a bound stack of paper, Esopus is a carefully curated collection of art, photography, writing, music, and other creative projects.
The Coffin Factory bills itself as the “magazine for people who love books,” and there is no better way to describe this magazine. Based in Brooklyn, and published three times a year, The Coffin Factory debuted this fall, and the first issue is an outstanding collection of fiction, essays, poetry, art, and interviews.
The most important—and surprising—thing about this issue of The Paris Review: Roberto Bolaño’s lost novel.
This is very exciting for fans of the Chilean writer (I happen to be a somewhat obsessive one) and even more so because The Paris Review will be publishing this “lost” novel in its entirety over the course of four issues.
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McSweeney’s 36 can hardly be called a “magazine,” though it’s difficult to know just what to call it. A friendly human-head box filled with an assortment of printed matter would be more accurate. And what an assortment it is.
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