The Limits of Extreme Beauty: Nicolas Winding Refn and Neon Demon
Daylight here burns up the atmosphere. The dawn of a new day is, in fact, the end of everything.
Posts by tag
murder
68 posts
VISIBLE: Women Writers of Color: Tania James
Tania James discusses her most recent novel, The Tusk That Did the Damage, the challenges of writing an elephant narrator, and the moment when she knew she could be a writer.
Two Bangladeshi Writers Murdered
Two secular journalists in Bangladesh were murdered recently, and these are far from the first incidents: These are only the latest in a recent string of killings of writers and…
Death Becomes Her
I’m going to learn to let my murder flag fly, flap by tiny blood-stained flap. For some, the fantasy isn’t enough. They have to read about real people dying in…
Ablaze with Care
As we said our vows, we were undone. We wept, besotted with our luck. Maggie Nelson, interviewed by Paul Laity for the Guardian, talks about her life before and during her deservedly…
Total Noise and Complete Saturation
For as long as I can remember I’ve been interested, in a clinical way, in silence.
The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Predation
There is a legend in Central America of an evil Black Cadejo, who is malevolent with glowing red eyes, and who stands on two feet like a man.
Fight to the Death over Literary Genre
Two Russian men found themselves on the opposite ends of an argument over the merits of poetry versus prose. The two were drunk and arguing over which genre was more…
Rumpus Exclusive: An Excerpt from Rob Roberge’s Liar
Rob Roberge's new memoir, Liar, is out February 9 from Crown Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Random House.
A Wife and a Challenger
Over at Catapult, read Patrick Ryan’s new short story “Go Fever,” about aerospace engineering, an attempted murder, and the Challenger’s explosion.
The Saturday Rumpus Essay: Making a Murderer and “Bad” Families
There were “good” families and “bad” families, and even I, an outsider, was quickly apprised of which was which.
Majik Market
The summer and early fall of 1974 replays like a gritty movie in my head, a 70s era Lumet or Scorsese, elements of cinema verite, but stylized, heightened.