... as essential to preserving the critical energy of cultural studies as its concepts and methodologies spread around the globe. In Culture in the Age of Three Worlds (2004), Michael Denning claims that the era of cultural studies has come to an end with the sociopolitical paradigm shift that moves us from...

...Madigan Haley The novel has become a crucial interpretive site for global literary studies owing to its status as arguably the first, and most persistent, world genre. This essay marks a critical turn that coalesces around the problem of how to imagine the novel at the world scale. Recent...

... apertures through which the American body politic is projected, namely, speech acts. The stakes in examining speech acts, for which I turn to poetry and the work of Solmaz Sharif and Rob Halpern, involves thinking about the commons. For one, because liberal democratic identity revolves around a deliberative...

...Sean Grattan; Christian P. Haines; Peter Hitchcock Focusing on the way that ACT-UP actually achieved many of its goals while also creating a commons around belonging, protest, and disability, this article interrogates the displaced position of ACT-UP and AIDS organizing and protest in recent...

... to dominant migration discourse through his deliberate narrative strategy of building his short stories around different experiences of exploited and estranged individuals who are often positioned outside the narrative itself. The article establishes two focuses: one historical, the other literary. First...

... and rolled in waves, like the windy prairie where I was born. Her pink tongue swept stray apple chunks from around her mouth. I wondered if she had lips. She stood to her full height, reaching for an apple high in the branches. Her body was shapely: trunk thighs widening into hips...

.... The rest of the cooler was full of Gatorades for Chris and me and Diet Coke and Sprite for Dad. I looked over at Chris, and it was one of those times I felt like not going to college and instead sticking around Tacoma long enough to teach him how to not act like a walk- ing punching bag. His acne...

... that burned and burned. One big liquid cloud was rushing in, into the blue denim sky. The screen door the little girl came out of was torn, its wires were tangled like hair. Her hands could wrap all the way around the blond boy’s arm. Hair brown, the other boy’s hands were in his drawers, blue...

... in the direction of the river, but the wind threw it in my face. I wiped at the phlegm and said, “It’s easy to strut around like a cock when the foxes aren’t around.” But he didn’t hear me. My right hand still trembled from the punches. It felt light but a distant throbbing approached. The needles would...

... steps but by the time she made it to my office she'd missed it. Jen Simmons had sped off in her red Honda Civic. Jeff stayed squatting, staring, on the roof. I put my arm around Wendy's middle, told her what had happened. Wendy pushed the curtain aside to look at Jeff: his bald head shone...

... a perfect line across the horizon in all directions but behind. The wind here roams in ways new to me. You walk into the kitchen, shrugging out of your work shirt, and I stand in the living room looking around at all the unpacked boxes shoved against the wall, stacked beside the TV. I hear you...

... stood on the counter without a cap. I set down my skateboard and my backpack. Grandma was too heavy for me to lift. I put my hands underneath her armpits and pulled, but could barely even drag her. The flesh around her eye was swollen and purple. I slapped her cheeks...

.... She had a beige cashmere pashmina thrown over her shoulder, and her long brown hair was pinned and barretted, with curls evenly descend- ing on either side of her long, elegant face. As she looked around the barn, her cheeks turned red. “I’ve written a couple of novels and . . . I’m thrilled...

... above the glass so they don t leave smears, you stand on your dad s chair and trace the rainbow of dots scattered across the water. January is blue, a small chart in the bottom corner tells you. May is green. Red for June. Orange for July. Brown and purple and black into autumn. They cluster around...

..., with his ex-wife and their baby. Vincent s arms wrap around her shoulders so that his hands cover hers. With his chin tucked to her shoulder, they are looking down at the child whose pinched red face stares right at the camera. In dreams, Paige comes to me holding our baby. Moments after waking, it s...

... better than I did. Is she okay? he said to me, one night, as I skimmed Macduff s translated lines. It s not like she talks to anybody, but I figured you d know. Outside of our room, our house, Lia had no friends, sat alone in the spillover cafeteria at lunch, skipped class and hung around...

... on or even cleaned up too good. All this charcoaled crap in big heaps, and I guess no one really has money to do anything about. So Bev and me like to scrounge around and find cool junk that didn’t burn, like huge bolts and spigots that we can pretend are guns. We paint charcoal mustaches on each...

.... I clambered around for my phone on the bedside table, tearing the charger out of the wall as I did, grabbing for my father in the dark. He was easy to find, his Instagram handle was his name. My two younger sisters smiled in his profile photo, the girls who stayed his. Something caught in my throat...

... out and working in pairs. Greta was distraught because he had just dumped her, and she wasn't paying attention. Once on the train, she wrapped herself around a pole and wept openly, hiccupping and snuffling, as she looked at an advertisement on the wall, a beach scene with happy couples...

... Mana thought she was auditing him. They could be sitting in a restaurant or a coffee shop in one of those pauses when the conversation died, and Mana would start looking around at the other diners, wondering about their lives, and then glance back to find Ting quietly watching him. He’d...