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As They Like It

By Nicole Graev Lipson, Illustrations by Cynthia Kittler

Fall 2023

I want my students to fall madly in love with Rosalind. She’s my favorite of all Shakespeare’s heroines, I tell them, pressing my hand to my heart, pretending to swoon.

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The Right to Work

By Jenna Krajeski, Illustrations by Chloe Cushman

Spring 2021

Across the US, the decriminalization of sex work has become increasingly popular, provoking intense debates within communities. But what role, if any, will the police play?

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Frantumaglia

By Pamela Erens, Illustrations by Najeebah Al-Ghadban

December 3, 2020

Elena Ferrante’s Blurred Lines

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National Interests

By Anuradha Bhagwati, Jamelle Bouie, Tressie McMillan Cottom, Jason Stanley, Illustrations by Agata Nowicka

September 8, 2020

On July 30, 2020, we invited Anuradha Bhagwati, Jamelle Bouie, Tressie McMillan Cottom, and Jason Stanley to discuss our current state of affairs and a few of the larger political themes that animate them.

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Rumor vs. Gossip

By Gregory McNamee, Illustrations by Lauren Simkin Berke

Winter 2019

“It’s just a rumor that was spread around town,” opens the chorus of Elvis Costello’s elegiac 1982 song “Shipbuilding,” best known in its rendition by Robert Wyatt: The shipyard will soon reopen, for a war is starting, and British boys will soon be “diving for dear life / when we could be diving for pearls.”

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Illustration by Ina Jang

The Male Glance

By Lili Loofbourow

Spring 2018

In the spring of 2013, HBO conducted a sly experiment on the “elite” TV-viewing public. It aired two new shows—both buddy dramas—back to back. Each was conceived as a short self-contained season, limited by design to a small number of episodes. Each had a single talented and idiosyncratic director for the entire season, and each dispensed with the writers’ room in favor of a unified authorial vision. 

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Sacred Objects

By Ada Limón

Fall 2017

I’m driving down to Tennessee, but before I get there, I stop at the Kentucky state line to fuel up and pee. The dog’s in the car and the weather’s fine. As I pump the gas a man in his black Ford F150 yells out his window about my body. I actually can’t remember what it was.

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