beirut
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What We Don’t Say: Talking with Ghinwa Jawhari
Ghinwa Jawhari discusses her debut poetry collection, BINT.
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When the Healing Place Exploded
Clothes, plants, and broken aluminum doors on balconies—all was inside out.
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Looking for Ghosts: A Conversation with John Freeman
John Freeman discusses his debut collection of poetry, Maps, displacement, empathy, and trying to find a way forward in the nation and the world.
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Death, Satan, and Cats: A Conversation with Rabih Alameddine
Rabih Alameddine discusses his newest novel, The Angel of History, surviving the AIDS epidemic, and the role of religion in his life and writing.
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This Week in Indie Bookstores
Independent bookstores are thriving because many are adapting technology and learning how to better serve their local community. A stunning new bookstore has opened in eastern China with dazzling displays and whimsical architecture. Bookstores in Barcelona are adapting as Spain…
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On Refugees, and Refusing to Be Scared
The news that governors are suddenly deciding that they don’t want to welcome Syrian refugees has really driven home to me just how cowardly much of this country is. We talk tough, mind you, but when we’re asked to really…
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Remembering Those Lost at Le Bataclan
In the wake of the tragedy that occurred in Paris this weekend, the identities of victims from the shooting at the Le Bataclan venue, where the Eagles of Death Metal were playing, have begun to surface. Read more about the…
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Fresh Comics #2: Transmissions from Beirut
What are the fundamental differences between telling your own story, telling the story of another, and telling your story about trying to understand someone else’s story?
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Carnival by Rawi Hage
Beirut-born Montreal author Rawi Hage has created a richly mysterious and surreally grotesque dream for his third novel, Carnival. The novel’s protagonist and narrator, nicknamed Fly, is a taxi driver in an unnamed city in the midst of a carnival celebration. Carnival…
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Aural Fixations, The Rumpus Mixtape #7: Revelry
Revelry. A raw expression of joy. Delight. It’s loud, laughing, possibly bawdy, frequently boozy.
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Annotating Tennyson
Actually, everything’s like that, isn’t it? You know: layered, couched in events, touched—soiled, perhaps, or perhaps sanctified—by hands, eyes. Sometimes briefly glimpsed. Sometimes lightly pondered. Occasionally, noted.
