Edgar Garcia and Jose-Luis Moctezuma on Roberto Harrison
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“…The double is the detail that undoes the world. And that’s a more minor way of thinking about it, but it expands upon the idea that I think shoots through Roberto’s work, and what makes it so exciting for me. There is a real resistance in his work to a one-to-one relationship, of this idea that self and world are interfused into a held-together unity. But, actually, every unity is held in its opposition. Every unity is held in its Other. And if every unity is held in its Other, anything like “the world,” the “world-system” even, is reduplicable ad infinitum, and therefore, is easy to break apart and change.” —Edgar Garcia on Roberto Harrison

Edgar Garcia and Jose-Luis Moctezuma‘s conversation-as-review of Roberto Harrison’s culebra and Bridge of the World is now under the Commentary section of our website.

Books for a Buck
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We have invaluable books for a bargain! Stock up on your holiday reading with the latest in contemporary literature, along with other curios. We will also have copies of our back issues available for purchase.

$2 Hardbacks
$1 Paperbacks
Spend $5 or more to get a free issue of Chicago Review!
Cash preferred.

935 East 60th Street
December 1, 11 AM – 3 PM

John Ashbery (1927–2017)
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“Our gestures have taken us farther into the day
Than tomorrow will understand.

 

They live us.”

 

—John Ashbery (1927–2017), “All Kinds of Caresses,” CR 27:04, 1976

 

Chicago Review mourns the passing of John Ashbery, one of the greatest American poets of the twentieth century and an ever-generous contributor to this journal. His first poem in CR was “The Mysterious X” (1974), followed by “The Thief of Poetry” and “All Kinds of Caresses” (1976). Of “All Kinds of Caresses,” which was reprinted in CR‘s Fifty Years: A Retrospective Issue, the editors noted: “[Ashbery’s] poetry is famously difficult; as he writes in the following poem, ‘it isn’t absolutely clear.'”

In the coming years, CR would go on to publish four more of Ashbery’s poems (in our 2006 sixtieth-anniversary issue), a letter he wrote in response to poet Eileen Myles (2008), and his correspondence with Elliott Carter regarding their collaboration on “Syringa” (2014). Photographs of Carter’s manuscript sketches alongside Ashbery’s poem text were featured in that special issue, 58:34.

In memory of John Ashbery, we have made all of his contributions to CR (1974–2006) available here.

 

Chicago Book Expo 2017
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We look forward to seeing you at Chicago Review’s table at this year’s Chicago Book Expo, thanks to the sponsorship of our friends at the Poetry Foundation.

The Expo will be held at 1104 South Wabash Avenue beginning at noon on October 1st. Learn more at www.chicagobookexpo.org.

Seeing Eldzier Cortor
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“Perhaps all compelling works of art engage the eye differently over time, and expand one’s capacity to see. For me, this is certainly true of Cortor’s work.”

In Chicago Review 59:4/60:1, Liesl Olson covers the visual artist Eldzier Cortor, whose work is on permanent display at the Art Institute of Chicago. Read the full essay and interview online!

Unanswerable Questions
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“The question forms of contemporary poetry in the ‘tradition of what is unanswerable’ perform the unanswerable as a specimen of resistance to the logic of commensurability, identity, and equivalence.”



In “Unanswerable Questions,” Joe Luna examines the erotetic in contemporary British and American poetry. Read the full piece here.

The Terror of Ordinariness: On David Lynch
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“It was also a tribute to the career of one of the most important filmmakers alive. It is, after all, impossible to conceive of the landscape of contemporary American cinema without Lynch. If he didn’t exist we would have to invent him.”

 

Eric Powell reviews “David Lynch: A Complete Retrospective” at the Music Box Theatre. Read more in Chicago.
Kristin Dykstra, In Memoriam Juan Carlos Flores (1962-2016)
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The tragic loss came in 2016. Stop-motion images of death compete unnaturally with his poetics: his poems swivel, cycle, gesticulate, perform.

After death the poems hold their ground in an aesthetic awareness of home, one marked with specifics of life in Cuba, where Juan Carlos Flores lived in a public housing community that rose out of the ground in a way that could only have happened in certain decades following the 1959 Revolution.

But his poems still move.

Read more in Commentary.