Mitt Romney, a Man for All Seasons. Or Not | OPEN Magazine

Mitt Romney, a Man for All Seasons. Or Not

There has always been something a little too perfect about Mitt Romney. He is a lifelong teetotaller, a non-smoker, the kind of fella who eschews salty language for an old-fashioned “aww shucks”, a dedicated family man with an overflowing brood of gorgeous children and grandchildren, and a successful Republican governor in one of the nation’s most liberal bastions, Massachusetts, the home of the notoriously drunken, cursing, womanising and bleeding heart Kennedys.

Old Men In Love

Over at The Millions, I review the latest from Alasdair Gray, put out beautifully by the wonderful folk (I imagine they are) at Small Beer Press.

It’s hard to speak of such a genre-bending and multi-talented artist as Alasdair Gray returning to form (which form exactly would that be?), but for those of us who loved his early books and were sometimes disappointed by the slim efforts of recent years, Old Men In Love should be something to cheer about.

Saturday, April 30, 7 pm: Negative Space: Nathacha Appanah, Youmna Chlala and Ranbir Sidhu

From the Indian Ocean to the American west, three daring fiction writers tell the story of the dispossessed. Like many characters in post-colonial literatureFrom the Indian Ocean to the American west, three daring fiction writers tell the story of the dispossessed. Like many characters in post-colonial literature, their protagonists have been cut off from motherlands by war, prison and migration. But the terrain of dislocation these writers explore–spanning the island of Mauritius in the Indian Ocean, an imagined concentration camp for Arab Americans and the pathways between 1980s California and a war-torn Punjab–is startlingly new.

One of France’s foremost emerging authors, Nathacha Appanah reads from her novel The Last Brother, which tells the little known story of Jewish refugees who are refused entrance to Palestine and imprisoned on Mauritius. This “important story, lyrical, grave and gorgeously told” (Victoria Redel) tells the story of two boys–one Indian, one Jewish–and their deeply moving attempts to escape both prison camp and the terrifying wilderness that surrounds it.

Science fiction meets post-9/11 civil liberties in Youmna Chlala’s stunning short story about concentration camps in the American southwest. Playwright Ranbir Sidhu reads from his recently completed novel The Open Country. The book focuses on a family of Sikh immigrants in 1980s California and is set partly against the distant events in the Punjab in India, where a civil war is raging.

@The Asian American Writers’ Workshop 110-112 West 27th Street, 6th Floor Between 6th and 7th Avenues Buzzer 600

$5 suggested donation open to the public.

More information here: http://aaww.org/

An Age of Terror and Forgetting

I have an essay-review of Amitava Kumar’s new book A Foreigner Carrying in the Crook of his Arm a Tiny  Bomb over at H.O.W. Journal. 

“Among the many symptoms of living in an age of a perpetual war on terrorism is amnesia. There are times we forget when it began, and for those growing up in this age, I can only imagine that it has the shopworn quality of grim permanency that those of us who came of age in the Cold War once felt. That war had no beginning, not in our lifetimes at least, and it sure felt like it never would have an end, except the most ugly, in nuclear annihilation. The fears must be different today. Instead of global extinction, the destruction children probably fear is localized and personal. A terrorist bomb will blow up their world.”

Hero of the Nation

A new story up at The Barcelona Review. Take a look here.

“The first time I met Papa was when he came to live with us in the spring, when things were growing. In an uncharacteristic mood of celebration, Mom planted a row of colorful flowers in the front yard along both sides of the driveway. Daisies and buttercups and even a rose bush. A week later, I was the one who found Papa peeing on the flowers. His ancient penis was gripped between his fingers, his lower lip curled over his upper. He looked like a garden gnome, except that he was out-sized and he had, strangely, a working dick.”

Sandow Birk’s “American Qu’ran”

Up now at NYFA Current, I have an essay on Sandow Birk’s recent show at P.P.O.W. Gallery. Here’s an excerpt:

Sandow Birk, “American Qu’ran Sura 34” (2009)

“What Birk arrives at in these paintings is a vision of a Qu’ran whose primary concerns are quotidian troubles and joys and the unadorned events of everyday Americans. A man affixes a satellite dish to the side of a bungalow. A boy and a girl shovel snow from a parked car. Shoppers at Walmart push carts and search through the bargain rack. Pedestrians cross a busy Manhattan intersection under a sky of surveillance cameras. A Latino mother and her children walk out of a market in Los Angeles.”