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William Giraldi talks about writing in spite of Catholicism: The Catholic O’Connor, in other words, has no Catholic agenda when she sits at the campfire to tell her story—across her singular canon all is chaos in search of grace, all is enigma unveiled but unsolved, and no credo is a clear victor. In her essay “The Church […]
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The story goes, if you can dehumanize a population with a stereotype, there’s no need to share their fate.
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In Seattle, there were more white-boy Rastafarians from the suburbs than people lining up to become Jesuits. Normal was nowhere in sight.
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The Rumpus Poetry Book Club chats with Kathleen Ossip about her new book, The Do Over, Catholic school, the afterlife, poem-like things, and how form sets sorely-needed limits.
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Frederick Barthelme talks about his new novel, There Must Be Some Mistake, life after teaching, and why food from the Olive Garden is “execrable in the best possible way.”
...moreOn Tuesday, Aqueous Books released From Here, Jen Michalski’s second short story collection and fourth book. The founding editor of the literary quarterly jmww and a long-time Baltimore resident, Michalski’s fiction has found homes in more than 80 publications. Looking at the early reviews and the stories from the new collection that have appeared online, […]
...moreA student at a Catholic high school has been running a secret library out of her locker distributing banned books to fellow students. The student, identified by online handle Nekochan, was incensed when The Catcher in the Rye appeared on a list of prohibited books.
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I have so many questions for Cruz. Does she know the whole story about this painting? Did she attend catechism and Mass at Tía Zenaida’s house? Does she know why we took the painting from Las Nieves?
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Writer David Schickler talks about his memoir The Dark Path, the equal pulls of religion and sex, and why having a sense of humor matters.
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Mark Jay Brewin, Jr. waxes about Catholicism, the roles of fathers and sons, and what it means to be a poet from New Jersey.
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This is what my parents told me about sex: nothing. Not one word. Ever.
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What I remember most about church is all the sitting, standing, and kneeling, the stink of incense, the calm of the priest’s voice, the hard wooden pews, and not really understanding why every Sunday, I found myself, alongside my family, in the same place, mindlessly repeating prayers by rote.
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