YALE REVIEW最新文献

{"title":"Twilight Sleep","authors":"David Baker","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.a908678","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/tyr.2023.a908678","url":null,"abstract":"Twilight Sleep David Baker (bio) I walked down to the water. Trees were there. Birds were.Low sky tipped in the sandbar willow. Gray as a slurry—My love heard sawing. Was it music? Well, she could walk.It was slow, like Keith at Köln. Then not, for the pain—Creeks cut through. Whippoorwills. All the calling swallows.And limestone ledges, boulders big as trucks, as cabins—The house was there. Ruined and fallen and nowhereto be seen, now, but a gentle hump in the hillside— My love smelled river. Roses. Must there be complications.Surgical stainless, since you asked, and a Tufnol peen— [End Page 107] I walked down to the water. Metaphyseal fit with rotationalfixation is key to survivorship. I wasn't sure I was awake—Like hovering ghosts, in their gowns. The twilight sleep.All the little stars through the leaves it was chilly not cold—Old bottles, china shards, standing chimney of river rock.We marked our way by the willow with the scar 10 feet up— I walked down to the water. Dad picked me up—sixty years by.Carried me over the river over stones over moon-glister there—Microscopic sections show eburnation and subchondral sclerosis.Synovium—if you really wanna know—pseudocyst formation—And him with his hand, swollen as a ball glove—catfish—no bigger than a twig stuck in our seine. Spike got me good— [End Page 108] What I want to say is, in the shadows, in the twilight,in the solitary place, the heart lies open to the world— Two steps. Be careful. She is learning to walk again.Across the room. Once you take three then you've got it—Around the block, the park. The Valley News notedthe gray-haired woman marching along, hair in a bun—Miles a day. Catfish envenomation. Cutaneous oedema.Severe necrosis. Death has been reported, says the report—My love walked down to the water, salt urn in her arms.Doves on the bridge-beams. Taking the daughter's path— Well, Doc's the best. He likes music in his sterile room.You mean cicatrix? You mean ghost limb? Was it a storm?— [End Page 109] We hack it off and whack the new piece—light titanium—with a hammer. It snugs the hollow. Papillary w/ mild fibrosis—We pulled the seine with two willow saplings. Crawdads.Minnows. We walked down to the water. Put your hand in—We were ankle-deep in the creek, in tennis shoes.It was warm, like crickets. Slipping on mussels on moss— Years don't matter. The heart lies open to the world.Willow scar six feet up. Trees were there. Birds were—It's how you know where you are. My love walked downto the water, carrying ash. Walked back with her scars—So we lean together, over the ancient waters. Big skylike music. All the night, freckled with doves with stars—Listening to songs to be sung on the other side. Of what?We will stay a while, by the water, until we are water— [End Page 110] David Baker david baker is the author, most recently, of Whale Fall and Swift: New and Selected Poems. He edits the annual eco-poetry feature \"Nature's Nature\" for The Kenyon Review and lives in Granville, Ohio. C","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"53 54 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135640114","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"The Rally","authors":"Molly Dektar","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.a900482","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/tyr.2023.a900482","url":null,"abstract":"The Rally Molly Dektar (bio) Click for larger view View full resolution Courtesy Creative Commons. [End Page 86] I’d been living with my boyfriend for a few days, after the cat I was supposed to be catsitting died—“It’s okay if she dies,” the owners had said before they left. She was just a kitten, but her heart was failing. I spent three days inside with her, then went out to see the boyfriend, and when I returned she was dead. I put her body in a Foodtown bag and the Resting Friends woman came and picked her up. I’d been planning to line up my next caretaking job during the month of catsitting, but I didn’t feel like I could ask the owners to stay, now that their cat was dead. The boyfriend said I could stay with him, sure. He was the most attractive person I’d ever met. I watched him do things like spread butter on bread. He had played some of Shakespeare’s young heroes in regional productions, had even been an understudy for one of the Henrys in Shakespeare in the Park, but he wasn’t acting much anymore. [End Page 87] I asked him about it. “The parts stopped resonating,” he said. But I had the sense he had been blacklisted; he wasn’t great to women. I missed running lines with him. Missed that little bit of magnificence in my life. He untwisted the language so well I thought he understood things. He said he’d love me forever, and also that I didn’t know how to take care of myself or other living beings. Shortly after I arrived, I broke his sink somehow, the whole thing came off the wall. I fell onto the ground, hit my head, and started crying. The silver hoses to the taps stayed on, but the plastic drainpipe had snapped. “You have an instinct,” he said. I sent a photo to my friend Dana to show her husband Neil. “Basically they didn’t screw it into the studs,” Neil wrote. The boyfriend brought me my bag and my shoes. “Baby, baby, baby,” he said. “How can I kiss you when I can’t wash my hands?” I didn’t ask if he was breaking up with me. I would conduct myself like he wasn’t. i left then, and Dana called. Once Dana and I had been equal, we were hotel receptionists together, a job about getting yelled at, and then she took the LSAT and went to law school and now she wore gray skirt suits and a diamond station necklace and loved Neil. We’d drifted apart. Maybe she thought I’d drag her down with me, maybe I was too proud, or maybe it was just the way things go when two people have such different schedules. I’d quit the hotel a year ago, planning to upskill or marry someone or move. Meantime, I’d been catsitting, trying to pick up gigs one right after the other, to keep the fewest possible days of sleeping at friends’ or with the boyfriend or, in a pinch, at movie theaters. I never slept at Dana’s. Dana said, “Want to travel before I can never travel again?” “I was just going to try to nap in a movie theater,” I told her. She told me that six months before, the doctors told her to cut caffeine or she might die. She couldn’t even have decaffeinated ","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"36 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-06-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136172759","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"All Souls","authors":"Saskia Hamilton","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.a900473","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/tyr.2023.a900473","url":null,"abstract":"All Souls Saskia Hamilton (bio) Chemical burring of the tongue.Good to be on the other sideof treatment for now. We scroll on. Would a codex restorethe balance of recto and verso. Take up the book. Dreams luminousin anticipation of the alarm.When it comes, how dark and modest waking is. [End Page 33] Reading the news, waiting for sleep or the night to pass, tap ofrain on the window unit, desk of unfinished work in the nextroom. X the painter has died. Images in my hand of the enormousfaces she painted, the cause of death in narrative paragraphs, allthe world of representation compressed on the screen. Why retell the stories of those before us? They already spokethem, or held their tongues—fell silent. A lifetime to overcomethe prohibition not to. But the lens is all wrong these days. I’dthought it a sunset, a sketch, told again as all sunsets are. To saysomething sincerely yet inauthentically is the danger. And Eliotstruck “Ode” from the first U.S. edition of his poems to preventhis mother from seeing it.… What prompted that thought? Body does not want to sit up justyet. One two one two go the taps. The child stirs—light herewithemitted in the dark. [End Page 34] In search of a medicinal hour. Hortus:sitting at the café with apple cakewhile garden-goers stir the gravel path.Compacted here, luxuriant trained growthof teaberry, gentian, trumpet vine,comfrey, field restharrow, &c.Our apothecary ancestor with his liber ingressustoken entered here to gather the herbsfor infusions that were to aid the unwellcaught in the far gone far alone glanceof mortality, moving the clock handsfrom one hour into the hour.Who is there now to announce the triumphof hope? But by and by, afterseeds have been scattered, stirred and covered over,blossomed, gathered, dried, crushed. Hot, late afternoon,bees crossing bees and white butterflies. [End Page 35] “Death closes all.” Yes. But were they grantedanything, none know beforehand,breath going out for a decade,returning in a century,while those gathered there fall out oftheir own pockets, or is itthe count and rhythm, unableto fix a mark or a lover’s thoughtat the moment when the face of the encounterbecame knowledge completed. [End Page 36] Saskia Hamilton saskia hamilton is the author of four poetry collections, including Corridor and All Souls, forthcoming in October. She is the editor of several works, including The Letters of Robert Lowell and The Dolphin Letters, 1970–1979: Elizabeth Hardwick, Robert Lowell, and Their Circle. Copyright © 2023 Yale University","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"142 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-06-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136172766","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Contributors","authors":"","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.a900491","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/tyr.2023.a900491","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"14 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-06-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"136172787","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Contributors","authors":"","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.0021","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/tyr.2023.0021","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"30 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135185205","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Foreigner","authors":"Cristina Rivera Garza, Sarah Booker","doi":"10.1353/tyr.2023.0010","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/tyr.2023.0010","url":null,"abstract":"Foreigner Cristina Rivera Garza (bio) Translated by Sarah Booker (bio) I stopped at the restaurant off the highway because I couldn't stay awake. I'd been driving for eight hours after learning that my mother's health was quickly deteriorating. As soon as I hung up the phone with her, I put a few things in a little suitcase and, knowing it would be difficult to find a flight at that late hour, grabbed the car keys and ran out the door. Following by memory the route I hadn't driven in years, I took the interstate as far as I could. Then I turned right onto a state highway, and later, as it got dark, I proceeded down local roads. I'd forgotten about the beauty of that drive. The evening hues outside [End Page 55] the city. The way the wind softly bends the grass on the hills. The shapes of certain clouds. I stopped several times along the way to drink coffee and ask myself, silently and guiltily, whether my quick response really had to do with a concern for my mother's health or just the overwhelming desire to leave everything behind. Tabula rasa. My life in the city was a disaster. I was working more hours than necessary and living off cheap food, coffee, and cigarettes. I hadn't gotten a haircut in months, and I was wearing the same clothes I'd acquired years before, when I'd first arrived, full of dreams. Desires. Ideas for the future. None of it had come to fruition, I had to admit more than once during the drive. Other things had been achieved, that was true, but not the ones I wanted. Not the ones that had brought me there. The sense of failure, at first discreet and bearable, had become a permanent bitter taste in my mouth. An invisible snake slithering across the backs of my thighs, steadily creeping up my torso, under my clothes. An inner clatter that kept me from sleeping. I was not a happy man. The person who was driving these narrow country roads, now skillfully avoiding the body of some nocturnal animal, was as bitter as the saliva he couldn't swallow. I screamed it to the heavens: I am not a happy man. I shouted it out to the deer that forced me to screech to a stop in the middle of the road, the deer that kept looking at me with its big, bright eyes as I got out of my car and fell to my knees on the asphalt, crying. Who are you? I yelled. What the hell are you doing out here? I realized it was just a fawn, cocking its head to the left. I said it once I could finally stand and get back in the car, looking into the rearview mirror: I am not a happy man. I am barely a man. I was wiping away snot when I remembered my mother's youthful face. She'd also moved away, but in the opposite direction. Instead of going to the city, she'd bought a little cabin in a place difficult to find, even on a map. There, she told me, she would have time to think. She said nothing more, as if no further explanation were necessary. Time to think about what? I wondered for the first [End Page 56] time, keeping an eye on the speedometer as I counted the insects","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"200 1","pages":"0"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2023-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"135185206","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"On jeong, language, and ghosts","authors":"Alexander Chee, Julia Cho, Susan Choi, C. Hong","doi":"10.1353/TYR.2020.0036","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/TYR.2020.0036","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"41 1","pages":"154-174"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2020-12-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"85557350","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"In the Atmosphere: The politics of Mati Diop's\u0000 Atlantics","authors":"Lindsay Turner","doi":"10.1111/yrev.13647","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1111/yrev.13647","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"102 1","pages":"186-191"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2020-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"84113047","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"Copying & Lying: From For Now","authors":"E. Myles","doi":"10.1353/TYR.2020.0052","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1353/TYR.2020.0052","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"55 1","pages":"112-124"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2020-04-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"77621546","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}

{"title":"FILM IN REVIEW: SPRINGES TO CATCH WOODCOCKS","authors":"Paul Franz","doi":"10.1111/yrev.13399","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1111/yrev.13399","url":null,"abstract":"","PeriodicalId":43039,"journal":{"name":"YALE REVIEW","volume":"39 1","pages":"180-193"},"PeriodicalIF":0.4,"publicationDate":"2018-07-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"86561191","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":4,"RegionCategory":"文学","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}