The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Dead Girls Sold Here
Why then are we comfortable with women routinely being cast as the victims of violence? Why don’t we see that as sexist? Where is the outrage?
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domestic violence
167 posts
His Greatest Masterpiece
The banality of evil hides in people, and who they unleash it upon become forever tainted by their names. They become one. Creator and monster. Evil by association.
The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Poppies
Poppies might bloom for years following a fire, but eventually will quit blooming until the next fire comes through. In the forests around my hometown, there are good fires and bad fires. It is sometimes difficult in the beginning to tell the difference.
The Animals in My Home
I let the flame get low. I fall asleep before blowing it out. I know I shouldn’t, but in the moments when I wake from nightmares, I like the warmth the candle offers, despite the danger.
“And She Went on Her Way Rejoicing”
Muriel Spark and the perennial question: “Am I a woman or an intellectual monster?”
Being Like Him: Fathers, Daughters, and Sons in Boyhood
That scene at Antone’s plays out one of my biggest fears: that when women aren’t in the room, straight men shift their conversations.
A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing by Eimear McBride
McBride has said that she wants this book to be read fast, letting it wash over you, but the struggle to make sense and to fill in the unsaid is hard to resist.
Sinking, Steadily
Over at Buzzfeed, Leigh Stein paints a portrait of two lovers before the fall: Jason and I met in 2007, at an audition for a tragedy. I was 22 and…
In My Clothes
My cousin and I are in matching dresses with purple buttons, lavender yarn in our braids. Our mothers take us to Sears Portrait Studio, where we sit together in front of a marbled blue sky. I’m into it, all of it.
Ray Rice and Domestic Abuse: A Rumpus Roundup
In February, Baltimore Ravens running back Ray Rice knocked out his fiancée at Atlantic City’s Revel Casino. He was caught dragging her limp body out of the elevator. They later…
I’m Touching You Now
When a doctor examines a woman, it is a moment of acute vulnerability. And it lasts until she is sitting up and fully clothed. It lasts until she gathers herself and leaves, stepping back into the “normal” world and her place within it.
