Love letters spill / down the narrow stairs as I leave. I think I would like nothing / to miss her like I do, hence this tenderness, hence my hands smudging / myself. 


By Sarah Taban
Essays    Reportage    Marginalia    Interviews    Poetry    Fiction    Videos    Everything   
Essays

There is always a risk of misunderstanding in all kinds of conversations, but those risks are more acutely felt in translation, and even more acutely felt in translation that calls forth past and ongoing traumas.

Poetry

One day you’ll be married. May Allah make your naseeb good. May you find a man who prays and follows the deen.

Essays

Fifty five years later, how we remember the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act directly correlates to the strength of our solidarity movements.

Poetry

somewhere a tiger loosens its throat or so she imagines / the rubber trees looming she lifts her paring knife to the day’s throat

Fiction

And though I knew it was someone’s son, I unburied the rooster in the dark and kick-started a fire and roasted it on a spit, my fingers lamping with grease.

Essays

You spoke through the impossible and you teach us once more how a story, through a faithful, stubborn kind of continuation, can be like a collective strength.

Marginalia

From visual treats to gastronomical gateways and books for young learners

Marginalia

We continue in our bookmarks series with works that sing, dissolve boundaries, and gather voices together

Poetry

She does not know if she’s an “opportunist”; this probably means she is an opportunist; She wonders if there is Judgement Day before the revolution; She forces all of her sexual partners to watch The Battle of Algiers.

Interviews

“I think that sensual pleasure is at the heart of what I find to be exciting about writing.”

Fiction

She should moisturize more often, drink at least three liters of hot water with lemon each day, and wear silicon sheet masks to bed to hide the stigmata of a woman who was everything.

The Transpacific Literary Project is calling for writing from the space between waking and sleep, consciousness and dream, between the living world and the underworld

Interviews

“I was interested in a coming-of-age story that wasn’t about running away from the domestic space but about burrowing and binding and rooting more deeply.”

Essays

Creativity, as it turns out, is especially hard when your brain is in survival mode.

Marginalia

Our five-part series comes to a close with these 33 titles.

Marginalia

Works of the classical period that appear in multiple translations

Poetry

They say / the faithful go to God with the love // of a child, they say the soul sees everything / without eyes. I am trying to understand // my life.

Essays

I embarked on this list with an assumption of scarcity. But I discovered an embarrassment of riches.

Essays

In the summer of 1990, 62,000 Hong Kong people chose to flee the city because of the violent crackdown on student protesters at Tiananmen Square the previous year. Now once again, people in Hong Kong were faced with the dilemma: to emigrate or to stay.

Poetry

Back then I was committed to the color blue, felt moved to paint my walls, nails, furniture the same shade of teal. Now my body swells at the window with casual longing.

Essays

There is always a risk of misunderstanding in all kinds of conversations, but those risks are more acutely felt in translation, and even more acutely felt in translation that calls forth past and ongoing traumas.

Fiction

She should moisturize more often, drink at least three liters of hot water with lemon each day, and wear silicon sheet masks to bed to hide the stigmata of a woman who was everything.

Poetry

One day you’ll be married. May Allah make your naseeb good. May you find a man who prays and follows the deen.

The Transpacific Literary Project is calling for writing from the space between waking and sleep, consciousness and dream, between the living world and the underworld

Essays

Fifty five years later, how we remember the 1965 Immigration and Nationality Act directly correlates to the strength of our solidarity movements.

Interviews

“I was interested in a coming-of-age story that wasn’t about running away from the domestic space but about burrowing and binding and rooting more deeply.”

Poetry

somewhere a tiger loosens its throat or so she imagines / the rubber trees looming she lifts her paring knife to the day’s throat

Essays

Creativity, as it turns out, is especially hard when your brain is in survival mode.

Fiction

And though I knew it was someone’s son, I unburied the rooster in the dark and kick-started a fire and roasted it on a spit, my fingers lamping with grease.

Marginalia

Our five-part series comes to a close with these 33 titles.

Essays

You spoke through the impossible and you teach us once more how a story, through a faithful, stubborn kind of continuation, can be like a collective strength.

Marginalia

Works of the classical period that appear in multiple translations

Marginalia

From visual treats to gastronomical gateways and books for young learners

Poetry

They say / the faithful go to God with the love // of a child, they say the soul sees everything / without eyes. I am trying to understand // my life.

Marginalia

We continue in our bookmarks series with works that sing, dissolve boundaries, and gather voices together

Essays

I embarked on this list with an assumption of scarcity. But I discovered an embarrassment of riches.

Poetry

She does not know if she’s an “opportunist”; this probably means she is an opportunist; She wonders if there is Judgement Day before the revolution; She forces all of her sexual partners to watch The Battle of Algiers.

Essays

In the summer of 1990, 62,000 Hong Kong people chose to flee the city because of the violent crackdown on student protesters at Tiananmen Square the previous year. Now once again, people in Hong Kong were faced with the dilemma: to emigrate or to stay.

Interviews

“I think that sensual pleasure is at the heart of what I find to be exciting about writing.”

Poetry

Back then I was committed to the color blue, felt moved to paint my walls, nails, furniture the same shade of teal. Now my body swells at the window with casual longing.