Varick Street Varick Street
March 15, 1947 At night the factories struggle awake, wretched uneasy buildings veined with pipes attempt their work. Trying to breathe the elongated nostrils haired with spikes give off such stenches, too. And I shall sell you sell you sell you of course, my dear, and you’ll sell me. On certain floors certain wonders. Pale dirty light, some captured iceberg being prevented from melting. See the mechanical moons, sick, being made to wax and wane at somebody’s instigation. And I shall sell you sell you sell you of course, my dear, and you’ll sell me. Lights music of love work on. The presses print calendars I suppose, the moons make medicine or confectionary. Our bed shrinks from the soot and the hapless odors hold us close. And I shall sell you sell you sell you of course, my dear, and you’ll sell me. This article is part of The Nation’s 150th Anniversary Special Issue. Download a free PDF of the issue, with articles by James Baldwin, Barbara Ehrenreich, Toni Morrison, Howard Zinn and many more, here. Elizabeth Bishop (1911–1979), the poet laureate of the United States from 1949 to 1950, published two poems in The Nation between 1945 and 1947, when Randall Jarrell was interim literary editor. She was a longtime friend of the more frequent Nation contributor Marianne Moore, who in a 1946 review in these pages described Bishop as “spectacular in being unspectacular.”
Mar 23, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Elizabeth Bishop
Lesser-Evilism We Can Believe In Lesser-Evilism We Can Believe In
Should we put government in the hands of a party determined to subvert it, or a party—however flawed—that believes it still has a role to play in securing the common go...
Mar 23, 2015 / Feature / Michael Tomasky
And We Love Life And We Love Life
And we love life if we find a way to it. We dance in between martyrs and raise a minaret for violet or palm trees. We love life if we find a way to it. And we steal from the silkworm a thread to build a sky and fence in this departure. We open the garden gate for the jasmine to step out on the streets as a beautiful day. We love life if we find a way to it. And we plant, where we settle, some fast growing plants, and harvest the dead. We play the flute like the color of the faraway, sketch over the dirt corridor a neigh. We write our names one stone at a time, O lightning brighten the night. We love life if we find a way to it… (translated from the Arabic by Fady Joudah) This article is part of The Nation’s 150th Anniversary Special Issue. Download a free PDF of the issue, with articles by James Baldwin, Barbara Ehrenreich, Toni Morrison, Howard Zinn and many more, here. Born in a Galilee village later destroyed by the Israeli army, Mahmoud Darwish lived for years in exile in Beirut and Paris before returning to Palestine in 1996. The most widely translated modern Arab poet, Darwish died in 2008.
Mar 23, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Mahmoud Darwish
Have We Reached the End of Jazz Itself? Have We Reached the End of Jazz Itself?
John Coltrane and other “lost” musicians of the ’60s are teaching a new generation of artists to bend time and space.
Mar 23, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Gene Seymour
Unburying the Lede: 10 Free Story Ideas Unburying the Lede: 10 Free Story Ideas
US journalism needs investigative reporting, and these are great places to start.
Mar 23, 2015 / Feature / Michael Massing
Can Men and Women Be Friends? Can Men and Women Be Friends?
Feminism has opened up far more space than could have been imagined in the 1920s.
Mar 23, 2015 / Feature / Floyd Dell and Michelle Goldberg
Voting Does Not Make a Difference Voting Does Not Make a Difference
Democracy is dead in the United States. Yet there is still nothing to replace real democracy.
Mar 23, 2015 / Books & the Arts / W.E.B. Du Bois
Are Women Morally Superior to Men? Are Women Morally Superior to Men?
Woman as sharer and carer, woman as earth mother, woman as guardian of small rituals—these images are as old as time.
Mar 23, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Katha Pollitt
Now and Forever Now and Forever
April 25, 1994 I’ll settle for Immortality— Not thru the body Not thru the eyes Star spangled high mountains waning moon over Aspen peaks; But thru words, thru the breath of long sentences loves I have, heart beating still, inspiration continuous, exhalation of cadenced affection These immortal survive America, survive the fall of States Departure of my body, mouth dumb dust This verse broadcasts desire, accomplishment of Desire Now and forever boys can read girls ream, old men cry Old women sigh youth still come. 7/19/92, Aspen This article is part of The Nation’s 150th Anniversary Special Issue. Download a free PDF of the issue, with articles by James Baldwin, Barbara Ehrenreich, Toni Morrison, Howard Zinn and many more, here. Allen Ginsberg (1926–1997) published three poems in The Nation in the 1990s. A 1959 letter to the editor he co-wrote is reprinted in this issue.
Mar 23, 2015 / Books & the Arts / Allen Ginsberg
How I Got That Story How I Got That Story
“Stay to the end…and read everything”: Reporting the Iran/Contra scandal taught me everything I needed to know about covering Washington.
Mar 23, 2015 / Feature / David Corn