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Kevin Brazil
Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London Review of Books, the Times Literary Supplement, Art Review, art-agenda, Studio International, and elsewhere. He is writing a book about queer happiness.

Articles Available Online


Interview with Sianne Ngai

Interview

October 2020

Kevin Brazil

Interview

October 2020

Over the past fifteen years, Sianne Ngai has created a taxonomy of the aesthetic features of contemporary capitalism: the emotions it provokes, the judgements...

Essay

Issue No. 28

Fear of a Gay Planet

Kevin Brazil

Essay

Issue No. 28

In Robert Ferro’s 1988 novel Second Son, Mark Valerian suffers from an unnamed illness afflicting gay men, spread by...

The White Review · Cecilia Knapp – ‘All My Ex Boyfriends Are Having A Dinner Party’ all my ex boyfriends are having a dinner party   comparing their tight obliques how red their meat hattricks for their grassroots teams saying they once had me in a car how I can never keep my mouth shut I always wanted to stay the night I’m dieting again burning my hands sipping low cal miso on a moving train I smile at other joggers like I’m enjoying this the dentist says I have yellow teeth his hands holding my tongue mum said there is nothing you can’t do so long as you’re wearing washing up gloves a purple leaflet in the waiting room asks me if life has worked out a) better b) worse or c) the same for one thousand pounds I can fix my teeth mum used to ballroom dance a wooden spoon weeping with the radio I’ve been keeping my fallen eye lashes in a bag I spit pink foam into the sink decide this week I will eat only eggs until the days smudge do the fat burn challenge pain is a man in a blue suit I see people eating crisps in public on Mondays like they have no guilt     The White Review · Cecilia Knapp – ‘We Girls Our Names’ We girls our names   on pink keyrings, him gargling a shadow outside dad’s house He can’t come in At the petrol station he buys a bottle, a cigarette between us Christmas stink swings from the rear-view, I lean to kiss the blond grit on his chin, my neck sliced by the seatbelt Our scents quickening, the Lynx hiding faith, tongues bleached mint At 14 I’m all worship, small knowing, a seal pup in waiting legs newly slick from dad’s razor Later

Contributor

March 2018

Kevin Brazil

Contributor

March 2018

Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London...

Interview with Terre Thaemlitz

Interview

March 2018

Kevin Brazil

Interview

March 2018

In the first room of Terre Thaemlitz’s 2017 exhibition ‘INTERSTICES’, at Auto Italia in London, columns of white text ran across one wall. Thaemlitz...

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poetry

October 2014

Roman Nights

Martin Glaz Serup

TR. Christopher Sand-Iversen

poetry

October 2014

4.    It’s New Year’s Eve, I’m standing newly divorced on a roof in a town, we toast the...

feature

December 2012

Confessions of an Agoraphobic Victim

Dylan Trigg

feature

December 2012

The title of my essay has been stolen from another essay written in 1919.[1] In this older work, the...

poetry

May 2013

Ad Tertiam

Saskia Hamilton

poetry

May 2013

Rows of pines, planted years ago – so many, were you to count them on your fingers, you would...

 

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