Unraveled Narratives: On Annie Ernaux’s “The Young Man”
After we peel back the narratives that we spin subconsciously, those stories that are shaped by external forces—whether capricious lovers or restrictive laws—maybe we are free to craft new ones.
Quarter in Review: On Embarrassment, Lyric Mortality, and Voight-Kampff Testing
It is considered unprofessional. It feels bad. It is a bad look. How is writing supposed to feel, supposed to look?
The Erotics of Yogurt: On Annie Ernaux’s “Look at the Lights, My Love”
Ernaux’s recent popularity in the US points to our desire for literature that plumbs sexuality without sentimentality. Do away with the crumbs of dissociative sex and give us something raw.