Why We Chose It
By Caitlin Horrocks, Fiction Editor
“Dead Dresses” by Rachel Cantor
Rachel Cantor’s story “Dead Dresses,” which appears in the Jan/Feb 2015 print issue, begins like this: “It being an odd day, they meet on Emmilloni’s bunk, Emmi being the odd one.” This first line suits its story in many ways, not least of which is that the story is odd. I mean that entirely as praise: the story is unusual, but not for the sake of being unusual. Its freshness surprises and delights.
Caitlin Chan Wins Patricia Grodd Poetry Prize for Young Writers!
, a sophomore at Bergen County Academies in Hackensack, NJ, took first place in this year’s Patricia Grodd Poetry Prize for Young Writers presented by the Kenyon Review
. Her poem “Tlingit Farewell; Glacier Bay, 1966
” was selected by KR
Associate Editor Natalie Shapero from nearly 900 submissions. Chan will receive a full scholarship to the Young Writers Workshop
this summer. Her poem will also appear in the Sept/Oct 2015 issue of the Kenyon Review
Enter KR’s Short Fiction Contest through February 28th
Have a piece of unpublished short fiction of 1,200 words or fewer? Submit to the Eighth Annual Kenyon Review Short Fiction Contest
any day through February 28th. The contest is open to writers who have not published a book of fiction. The winning story and two runners-up will be published in the Kenyon Review
, and the winning writer will receive a full scholarship to a Kenyon Review Writers Workshop
. Entry fee of $18 includes a one-year subscription to KR
or extends your existing subscription by a year. Ann Patchett
, celebrated author of six novels, including Bel Canto
and State of Wonder
, will be the final judge. Go short and good luck!
Check out KR
’s New Issue!
’s Jan/Feb 2015
issue features not only our bold new design, the most exciting change in the 75-year history of the Kenyon Review
, but you’ll also find dazzling new poems by Robert Gibb, Linda Pastan, Kwame Dawes, Amy Beeder, Chana Bloch, Richie Hofmann, Roger Desy, Leslie Harrison, and John Koethe; fiction by Wil Weitzel, Adrienne Celt, Noy Holland, and Rachel Cantor; and essays by Lee Upton and Bruce Bond, as well the winners of KR
’s 2014 Patricia Grodd Poetry Prize for Young Writers. Grab a print copy today! Or check out our Kindle Extended Edition
! Subscribe and get the full KR
issue for only .99 cents a month. Or purchase single issues for only $3.99.
More happy love! More happy, happy love!
Do you love to read? Do you love someone who loves to read? Let KR
light the fires this Valentine’s Day! Send your honey a poem on Valentine’s Day, then follow up with a whole year of fabulous poems and stories with our special Valentine’s Day subscription rate: 6 issues of KR
for only $20.15!
“If we can do this, Cupid is no longer an archer: his glory shall be ours, for we are the only love-gods!”
(Much Ado About Nothing)
Be sure to order by 10am on Saturday, February 14th to ensure delivery of the poem on Valentine’s Day!
KR Offers Twice the Inspiration this Summer!
New in KR
This month’s podcast features Associate Editor Natalie Shapero interviewing the poet Elaine Bleakney, author of two collections of prose poetry: For Another Writing Back (Sidebrow Books, 2014) and 20 Paintings by Laura Owens (Poor Claudia, 2013). Join them as they discuss the project of autobiographical writing, along with questions of honesty and secrecy on the page and in life. The interview is followed by a brief selection from the current issue of KR.
As KR reveals its splendid new form, what better time to look back at our special issue of Spring 1990, devoted to “impure form.” KR’s then-editor, Terry Hummer, described impure form as “writing which was in love with its own intelligence, with facts of the world that broke out of all contours, . . . with the play of form against form and fact against fact.” Is the following selection a poem? A story? Is all great writing the product of an impure state of being, at once ravenous and transcendent?
The Kenyon Review, New Series, Spring 1990, Vol. XII, No. 2
The Maker of Parables
by Joyce Carol Oates
M., the maker of parables, a small dwarfish delicately built man with shining dark eyes, lived inside a large slovenly bearlike man of late middle age. Each morning the two clambered up out of sleep, the one trembling with anticipation to set down, in the crystalline prose for which, while yet living, he had become immortal, the beautiful and terrifying wisdom yielded him by night; the other trembling with anticipation to eat—to eat, and eat, and eat. For there was a ravenous hole in his belly.
The Hidden Glossary of Solace
by Tarfia Faizullah
(i. First waking)
to learn that each of your fingers
can be swallowed by mist
but remain intact, and that
you can flex the calves
allowing you to pedal
Searching for Argos—Dogs in Karen Green’s Bough Down
I started Early—Took my Dog—is the opening line of a poem by Emily Dickinson, a line that I have mentally cut out with scissors, leaving behind And visited the Sea— and the rest of it, salt-sprayed, doom tinged, beautiful, but something completely different from what this first line alone has come to mean to me.
A Micro-Interview with John Koethe
’s most recent book is ROTC Kills
. His previous book, Ninety-Fifth Street
, received the Lenore Marshall Award. An excerpt from his poem “La Durée” can be found here
. The full poem appears in the Jan/Feb 2015 issue of the Kenyon Review
Could you tell us a little about “La Durée”? What was your original impetus for writing it?
In 2013 the Morgan Library in New York had an exhibition commemorating the centennial of the publication of Swann’s Way, a book that (along with the rest of the novel) is one of the major influences on my writing. I attended the exhibition, in which Henri Bergson figured slightly (I hadn’t realized he was Proust’s cousin), which reminded me that I’d always intended to try to read Bergson. Also, I’ve regularly written long poems, and had felt like writing another one. But most of the long poems I’ve written in the last twenty-five years have been somewhat anecdotal, and I felt I wanted to write a long, continuous abstract meditation, something I hadn’t really done since “The Constructor,” which I finished in 1988.