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Kate Zambreno
Kate Zambreno is the author most recently of Drifts (Riverhead) and To Write As If Already Dead, a study of Hervé Guibert (Columbia University Press). Forthcoming in Summer 2023 from Riverhead is The Light Room, a meditation on art and care, as well as Tone, a collaboration with Sofia Samatar, from Columbia University Press in early 2024. ‘Insekt’ is part of an in-progress work of fiction, Realisms. She is a 2021 Guggenheim Fellow.

Articles Available Online


Insekt or large verminous thing

Fiction

September 2022

Kate Zambreno

Fiction

September 2022

Around dusk one evening in March, I went out back to the small garage, and switched on my small square of artificial light at...

Feature

January 2018

Accumulations (Appendix F)

Kate Zambreno

Feature

January 2018

I’ve been keeping a mental list of all the pieces of art that I’ve nursed Leo in front of...

Noelle Kocot’s poems are like sunlight coming through a window Indeed, one of Kocot’s primary concerns throughout God’s Green Earth, the New York poet’s eighth full-length collection, is light, and the stillness of living required to observe it We are summoned to ‘look at this kitchen / In its bright survival’ (‘Kitchen’) The light of morning is anthropomorphised as ‘indifferent’, while the entire month of October is ‘pearl-bright’ (‘Poem for —’) A recurring trope throughout the collection is empty domestic space, and light’s inflection on it The image feels apt at a time when we are stuck in our homes, bereft of the habitual punctuation of our days ‘Don’t know how to get back to the other age fluttering / Behind us’, Kocot writes in ‘Transitions’, seeming to speak directly to the not-so distant past ‘Trying to understand, trying to relate, / I fail miserably in the dissembling moment’: I feel the resonance of that ‘dissembling moment’ now, as the day ‘taunts me / With its promise’ (‘Retreat’) at its beginning, and unspools by mid-afternoon   Despite the focus on interior domestic space, these aren’t stagnant or static poems ‘To hobble out of a singular verb, that is called life!’ Kocot tells us in ‘Narcissism’, the spondees leaping along with an oddly apposite glee, creating a feeling of bruised hope This is a typical example of Kocot’s neat and spare poetic line I’m reminded of Baldwin’s adage about wanting to write ‘sentences as clean as bone’, but rather than being picked clean, Kocot’s lines feel sun-bleached from being left out in the open At times they come out as purple as the twilight they describe:   If I could taste the insistences Of dusk, I would rise from the shocked Grass and imagine a shelter of miniature Tides   (‘Paying Attention’)   Throughout the collection, Kocot writes with a soft-spoken clarity, creating a feeling of calmness and reassurance Tonally, it recalls the work of Wendell Berry Compare, for instance, Berry’s ‘The Peace

Contributor

August 2014

Kate Zambreno

Contributor

August 2014

Kate Zambreno is the author most recently of Drifts (Riverhead) and To Write As If Already Dead, a study...

Heroines

feature

March 2013

Kate Zambreno

feature

March 2013

I am beginning to realise that taking the self out of our essays is a form of repression. Taking the self out feels like...

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poetry

June 2015

Hotel

Mónica de la Torre

poetry

June 2015

Hotel   The housekeeper has children living in town with her but her husband and relatives are in Somalia....

fiction

October 2015

The Bird Thing

Julianne Pachico

fiction

October 2015

You are worried about the bird thing but that’s the last thing you want to think about right now,...

feature

January 2017

Take Comfort

Heather Radke

feature

January 2017

I. One week after Buzz and Heather broke up, she dragged her mattress into her living room. She moved...

 

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