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by Bill Beverly In the summer of 1970, there occurred the unusual opportunity to attend three performances of an infrequently performed play by William Shakespeare, “A Winter’s Tale,” during one theater season: an event as rare as the Transit of Venus.
See if you agree: Genre fiction guarantees a beginning, a middle, and an end. The word “genre” is a kind of shorthand for the reader: expect closure. Literary fiction? Not so much. “Literary” suggests shiny prose and real life on the page. And part of the bargain is that the ending could be inconclusive. Thought-provoking. Not always, of course, but that’s a distinct possibility.
In praise of the campus dining hall. This month we’re featuring writing about food to celebrate our subscription deal with Lucky Peach—get one year of the best in literature and the best in food writing for only $50. For thirteen years now I have taught at the same small women’s college. Its dining hall is an old building with high ceilings, long windows. I love the dining hall. My students hate it. But hating it is their job—I was like them once.
"I think the reason we're so struck by [Jane Eyre] is how Charlotte Brontë manages to relate, expertly, what it means to be a human being...and that never changes." (Narrator Thandie Newton) Following Jane from her childhood as an orphan in Northern England through her experience as a governess at Thornfield Hall, Charlotte Brontë's Gothic classic is an early exploration of women's independence in the mid-19th century and the pervasive societal challenges women had to endure.
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