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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...

Note for the following three poems: In 1965, a bottlenose dolphin christened Peter was the subject of a scientific experiment For six weeks, he lived in a flooded apartment in the Virgin Islands with a woman named Margaret Howe, who was tasked with teaching him human language Needless to say, this was not successful     Margaret’s Visitor The doorbell never rings I still anticipate the TV sitcom bait-and-switch, the postboy’s shock as Peter concertinas through the water to the door, rotates the handle with his bottlenose and nabs the letter in his mouth, delivering a suave Midwestern ‘Thanks’ – and I descend, still fresh from six weeks in a Lurex bathing suit, to wait for his reply I see the postboy see the desk that hovers with its laminated paperwork, like the chrome cloud of an indifferent God; the hair I shaved to bring us closer tufting out, my black lips like a faded mime: and I see Peter, halfway human now, his eyes above the water sitting on his nose, easy as spectacles ‘Oh no,’ he says, ‘it’s no trouble at all,’ craning to sign, the pen between his teeth I’m by his side: a painting of two homesteaders leaning on leaf-nets as if they were farming tools A ball bobs in the background, childishly, but we have put such things away I ask him where he’d like our new delivery We watch the postboy stagger, fish-legged, down the street, his mouth a gasping blowhole     Fourth of July Of course he wouldn’t wear a hat Of course the soggy tickertape Of course this can of frosting in the dark, water-light softening its jagged edges, and for just a tick I seriously thought: what if I

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...

READ NEXT

fiction

July 2015

Scropton, Sudbury...

Jessie Greengrass

fiction

July 2015

My parents were grocers. For twenty-five years they owned a shop with a green awning and crates of vegetables...

fiction

August 2013

Foxy

Siân Melangell Dafydd

fiction

August 2013

If you don’t want to lose your eyes, grab them by the veins sticking out of their behinds and...

feature

September 2013

For All Mankind: A Brief Cultural History of the Moon

Henry Little

feature

September 2013

For almost the entirety of man’s recorded 50,000-year history the moon has been unattainable. Alternately a heavenly body, the...

 

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