The Paris Review21 min. leídos
Diary of Remorse
I was plagued by remorse, but my remorse seemed inspired by insignificant dumb things—things not really worthy of bona fide remorse. That didn’t make it any less painful or plague-worthy, as I was still riddled with disgrace on a minute-by-minute bas
The Paris Review30 min. leídos
The Art of Fiction No. 255
Helen Garner lives in the Melbourne suburb of Flemington, in an Edwardian-style house with a picket fence. A corridor from the guest bedroom connects to the house next door, where Garner’s daughter, Alice, lives with her family. Most evenings, the tw
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
Dark Suit and Bow Tie
It’s Thursday and you are alive,you are at a sidewalk caféanywhere in the world: the sun setting, the tiled roofs,everything vibrant in the heat. And the wine! Enough for everyonethis time. You are happy— as usual you don’t eat,you hand out loaf afte
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
If It’s Night
Blindfolded by its eyethe crowbarsays hello soft lardhello hard breastsweethearthandcartwater lily of suspendersIt’s sunny in the drawersand the protruding chins sleep deeplyat the edge of the wheat fieldswhere the well-seasoned pipes frolicand white
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
In Defense of Passive Voice
Someone’s raising money, a sweet sickfriend from a former life in present need.You follow the link from Facebookto PayPal, happy to help, and back. Children in cages,friends of friends are posting at the hive.Lead in the water, a new celebrity scream
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
The story of Aesop’s partnership with The Paris Review is one plotted by a deep reverence for the written word. Since 2015, we have been proud to offer this esteemed quarterly for purchase in select stores across the globe and at, inviting
The Paris Review1 min. leídosFinance & Money Management
How Do You Hold Your Debt
Christine Sun Kim was born in California in 1980 and lives in Berlin. Her work as an audiovisual artist employs American Sign Language, musical notation, and closed-captioning to address the politics of sound. The drawings in How Do You Hold Your Deb
The Paris Review2 min. leídos
Kolumbo, 1650
It wasn’t wind. It differently burned.My child’s child, a reptile in pumice. A whitethat wasn’t a cloud. Santorini, a blowngasket, disappearing into a future without us.I had no skin. So many nights, I held my wristover coal to cauterize the open vei
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
There Is a Word or Several, Must Be
Breathe these words in all languages before they’re lost, thank you and mean it. The things we take for granted and now have abandoned us. Or will. Water, air, rich earth beneath the rubble, thank you for our daily breath. Give us this day. Exhale th
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
Mating Tango
all day I’ve watched two white mothstrail and braid each other in flightover the pond and grassy run-upto the tree line bright whiteagainst the green-leaved paper birches and beechesthen vanish within a cumuluswaiting to appear again against the unyi
The Paris Review14 min. leídos
The Education of Mrs. R.
An adolescent shriek woke her. Cockerels, she thought, cockerels, with a wry twist to the word. She lay in the dark listening. There was no use in covering her head; the screaming still came through. The soloist was suddenly submerged in the chorus.
The Paris Review26 min. leídos
The Art of Poetry No. 111
My second conversation with Terrance Hayes failed to record properly. The logical response would be to chalk this technical malfunction up to the device itself, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Hayes’s hyperexpressive, all-encompassing energy had inter
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
Art Tourism
Just as Jupiter spirited the girl to Crete,this canvas was conveyed over the seaand must surf its contradictions or drown.(It looks like Europa, her pose indiscreet,should tumble onto us pretty heavily;nothing ruffles the bull’s flower crown.) My mem
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
The Readers
Love brought these readers into the worldThe cuplike structuresof their eyes were formedinherited color, and loveand argument must be conducted differently nowthat the sounds through the wallare interpreted, and a gentle relentless pressure has been
The Paris Review28 min. leídos
Do You Belong to Anybody?
In the morning, I received a phone call and was told to board a flight. The arrangements had been made on my behalf. I packed no clothes because my clothes had been packed for me. A car arrived to pick me up. The radio announced traffic due to an acc
The Paris Review19 min. leídos
Winter Term
She walked to school along streets named for English poets, but the one thing everyone in Melbourne knew about her suburb was its nameless canal. It was held to be behind headaches, sore throats, and babies who wouldn’t settle, and was considered lit
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
I think of the old pipes,how everything whitein my house is rust-stained,and the gray-snoutedraccoon who insists on usingmy attic as his pee pad, I’vetried, oh I’ve triedto noavail, and certainsadnesses losing their edges,their sheen, their furchalk-
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
The Paris Review
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
Cover: Courtesy of Danielle Orchard and Perrotin; photograph by Guillaume Ziccarelli. Page 12, courtesy of B. Wurtz and Garth Greenan Gallery, New York; pages 36, 40, 43, 46, 49, 52, 55, 59, 60, courtesy of Terrance Hayes; pages 91–102, courtesy of L
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
The New You
He’s not what you expectedAs you might have expected. Unkempt. Eyes bright but restrained.Clothes damp from the steady rain Of your most shameful and exciting thoughtsOn the thatched roof of his tiny hut In your underworld, the underworld of you,The
The Paris Review35 min. leídos
The Gold Coast
So I had to go to Zurich again for a few days. My mother wished to see me. And because of my nerves about it, I’d felt so unwell over the whole long weekend that I suffered from severe constipation. On top of this, I should say that I’d written a nov
The Paris Review2 min. leídos
HILTON ALS is a staff writer at The New Yorker and an advisory editor of The Paris Review. My Pinup is forthcoming from New Directions in fall 2022. MAYA BINYAM is a contributing editor of The Paris Review. Her debut novel, Hangman, will be published
The Paris Review2 min. leídos
How to Wash Your Hands
When I was a girl in Beverly Hills,and things were just beginning to get bad, they brought handwashing experts to prep schoolone day. There were two, and the two of them lectured on proper procedure: how to turn the water offwhile you lather, how to
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
There Is Nowhere to Go Back To
Tightness in the chest—here’s your Golgothaunder the cross,a hill that riseswith each breath and falls when you exhale.Tightness squeezes the ocean of fish-words,and there’s no home for the pigeon to fly back to.Your place is gone, your land,everythi
The Paris Review33 min. leídos
The Art of Fiction No. 254
Sigrid Nunez makes a policy of not inviting interviewers into the studio apartment on West Thirteenth Street where she has lived for decades. But during the last of our sessions, on Zoom, she picked up her laptop and danced me in a circle: bed tucked
The Paris Review2 min. leídos
The Plimpton Circle is a remarkable group of individuals and organizations whose annual contributions of $2,500 or more help advance the work of The Paris Review Foundation. The Foundation gratefully acknowledges: 1919 Investment Counsel • ACE Conten
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
Primm Meadow
In the Gold Creek basina ponderosa trunk’socher plates of barkconverge with blackfault lines we decidesmell like cinnamon.I shoulder a blanket,you the flask wheregin swishes. Rustinghistorically, chassisfrom settler wagonsare ragged beds forMontana w
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
The story of Aesop’s partnership with The Paris Review is one plotted by a deep reverence for the written word. Since 2015, we have been proud to offer this esteemed quarterly for purchase in select stores across the globe and at, inviting
The Paris Review1 min. leídos
Dinner with Rene Ricard
For three years we metat one or the other LES hovelchosen by Tony the Dealer,who, like all dealers,caught kicks by making you waitwhile he babied Janis, his French bulldog,or chose a new scorched parkafor the day,or breakfasted at ihop,followed by a
The Paris Review17 min. leídos
It’s 4:38 P.M., eight minutes after I usually go home, but now I’m rooting around under my chair cushion, double-checking my shirt pocket, hunting for an unmarked baggie of white bars, which I shouldn’t have left in my office, which I shouldn’t have
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