“My notes began to look like a glossary for some absent text.”
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“Everyone in a hat—we called them fedoras back then. You probably never heard of a fedora.”
“Let me be clear: I don’t ever want to see this story again.”
This first appeared in Lit Hub’s Literary History newsletter—sign up here. The earliest existing eyewitness account of a performance of William Shakespeare’s Macbeth comes to us from the astrologer Simon Forman, who saw the play at the Globe Theater on April 20,
Five Bells is an elegy for Kenneth Slessor’s friend Joe Lynch, an artist who drowned in Sydney Harbour in 1927 after falling from a ferry.
All is recollection save for the slender membrane of now. Every present thought, every present feeling, collides with a league of their familial ghosts. And if our lives in this moment seem flimsy, that is because they are. We dwell
Jacqueline Harpman wrote her best-known works in the nineteen-nineties, but her fiction’s elegiac loneliness seems to anticipate our own solitary, screen-bound era.
