... was published in August 1970, and the first issue ofMs. Magazine came out in New York Magazine in 72. So there was this sense that something was happening. It wasn’t particularly happening at Columbia, but it was happening in New York, and I felt that I was part of something. I...

... looking woman. She was wearing her blue polka-dot dress. Lucy waved. “Hi, George —​putting in the garden?” “Somebody’s got to!” Exactly why they laughed at this wasn’t clear, though it seemed like a necessary thing at the time. Oscar was making his way through the trees across...

... wouldn’t tell my brother this. He was still shouting. I’m never doing this again. Do you hear me? Never. He kept his eyes on the road. You can die next time for all I care. He kept driving, and there wasn’t much farther to go. I wanted him to turn the tape player on, for us to have a soundtrack...

... workshops commenced, several of the short story writers combed through these publications so that they could arrive at a collective understanding of Thom’s oeuvre. They found his limitations in terms of craft to be absolutely infuriating. It wasn’t just the verbal, numerical, and stylistic...

... focus enough to finish her tasks. She drafted emails to ambassadors, booked flights on the sunny side of planes and deleted data listservs. When the economist wasn’t lecturing in South America, he would shuffle the towers of papers that blocked sunlight from the windows. She would arch her back...

... from birth to adolescence. I set up the cam in my bedroom, where Baxter slept. I didn’t go live with it right away. Originally, I thought it would just be for me —​not that Baxter wasn’t fascinating, he was, I just didn’t see how one beagle- collie cross could command the same kind of attention...

... quickly that my dissertation was not publishable, that I wasn't up to that kind of theoretical work without additional training, and that the questions that I had asked were not very interesting. I spent a lot of time trying to retrain myself and to think about what I ought to do...

...,” she said. She had said “we” but even I knew this wasn’t the time to point out such details. “The doctor gave me the phone numbers of people who have been through the same process. One woman told me the operation is a lot harder on us than it is on the cat. She told me...

..., but it wasn’t) left the room to vomit and/or sneak a smoke in the girls’ room. The bodies were less convincing than the zombies in Dawn of the Dead, but we made Gavaler 43 allowances since they were real. One guy—my wife thinks I made...

... what I thought for years was the true Madonna saying prayers before I pulled back my bedding, washed off my make-up. I watched her disappear over time, smear into a red window. 2. In art history books we learned she wasn’t...

... what Maynard Mack [a Yale professor] was doing in the 1960s. It wasn’t called new historicism; it was an historical approach to literature of the kind that Maynard Mack, and many other scholars of his generation did, where you learned about Pope’s grotto at Twickenham, about...

... wasn’t working, and could never work, because administrations retain total control of the “demand” for labor—in many disciplines, administrations are perfectly willing to use faculty without doctorates. For that matter, a lot of the work formerly done by faculty...

...Bradford Tice the minnesota review Bradford Tice Lilith1 Sometimes the Garden was witch-grass, kaffir lily, anemone—and sometimes it wasn't. Sometimes the names came like smoke, others like water. If you think it woman's work to bend...

... into a raging conflagration, only in small scale. It took weeks for them to identify the source of purple streaks on my neck, variety of the burn on your tailbone. It wasn’t from fire. Everything still fit. The night janitor was the first to notice the bundle in my basket...

... and graduate students but not necessarily. Rees  Yeah, with the Levellers book. Now, this wasn’t the case, wasn’t anywhere nearly so back in the 1970s and early 1980s, but now the Rees Interview 125 standard way of publishing a piece of research...

... back at him with a bright excited stare that said, Aren’t we terrible people? Gradually the flat acquired goods. It wasn’t difficult: auditing paid well, and Mana’s field, IT, was the coming thing. As he accompanied Ting around the department stores, he discovered...

..., people scattering in panic, tripping over one another made me afraid but curious about their freedom and pain. Even if it wasn’t a violent weekend there was always so much noise that the police would roll down the street with their cherries on, telling people to go home or go to jail. Whenever...

... Menck- iewiezce, I like your style. The truth is I wasn’t sure she knew my name. But I didn’t want to ask her and find out that she did. I didn’t want to look dumb. Neither Jenny nor her daddy was much for talking. But my folks did their best to engage them in conversation and pointed out...

... 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...

... they wanted from me was less a defense of my scholarship than my participation in a funeral for women’s literary history. These colleagues wanted a prediction about when the moment for studying women’s writings apart from men’s would be over—well and truly over. In fact, wasn’t...