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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...

Picture    Adam has just tasted the forbidden fruit; he’s bitten into the apple and he’s condemned to roll it in his mouth for eternity His mouth, wide open, is bitter The gigantic size of the apple matches in scale the enormity of the sin The same colour as the apple, a flower Looked at closely, this flower is a face What face? Sisyphus, who’s generally reduced in the mind’s eye, wrongly, to a stubborn boulder, was a crafty man, so crafty that the wordsmiths have claimed he was the father of Ulysses Wily, twisting, labyrinthine, craftiness evokes nets, laces, snares, knots And indeed, Sisyphus succeeded in chaining Thanatos who’d come to escort him to the kingdom of the dead    He’s the only mortal to have succeeded at this unheard-of exploit: cheating Death, ensnaring him, reducing him to powerlessness, to such a degree that the Immortals, jealous of their privilege, come to Death’s rescue and set him free On a corner of the apple, a squirrel… no, a hobgoblin… or rather, a bird It’s indifferent to the torments of Adam-Sisyphus and the symbolic implications of this picture    Indifferent, too, to the spectator    *   The Black Mantle    After killing the Minotaur, Theseus succeeded in getting out of the labyrinth thanks to the thread of Ariadne – Ariadne whom he would abandon (the ungrateful wretch!) on a desert island   These days, the labyrinth is empty and silent   All the same, the shadow of the Minotaur floats there, disconsolate and threatening – all in vain The shadow yearns to be set free, but it doesn’t know how to leave this sinister place and rejoin the kingdom of the dead So it continues to wander, without respite, in the inextricability of the labyrinth From time to time, it knocks into other shadows, those of its victims    On Olympus, the gods, gathered together on the occasion of a banquet, turn to Thanatos and ask him why he did he not escort the Minotaur to Hell Wrapped in his black mantle, Thanatos timidly lowers his eyes and does not answer   So the gods leave with a huge burst

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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fiction

April 2015

Heavy

Chris Newlove Horton

fiction

April 2015

It is a two lane road somewhere in North America. The car is pulled onto the shoulder with the...

poetry

November 2016

Nothing Old, Nothing, New, Nothing, Borrowed, Nothing Blue

Iphgenia Baal

poetry

November 2016

look at your kitchen look at your kitchen oh my god look at your kitchen it’s delightful only wait...

fiction

April 2014

Spins

Eley Williams

fiction

April 2014

Spider n. (Skinner thinks this word softened from spinder or spinner, from spin; Junius, with his usual felicity, dreams...

 

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