Three Things Thursday: Reading a Bit

For the first time in many years, I’ve found myself struggling to find time to read. This is both “unprofessional” as the kids say these days because part of my job is, in fact, reading, and personally disappointing. 

That said, I’ve been carrying around three recent-ish issues of literary magazines to tempt me into turning a page or two during my down time. So far, this is has been pretty rewarding.

Thing the First

The latest issue of Ploughshares, which I feel is perhaps the best traditional little magazine in the country these days, is solid as usual. 

The opening essay by Anthony David, however, is eerily prescient and deeply compelling. Set in Jerusalem and against the backdrop of violence triggered by the American invasion of Iraq in 2003, David searches for the photographer responsible for a beautiful set of glass negatives found in a relatives apartment. The photographs show scenes from Palestine in the 1920s and 1930s taken by the German Catholic priest Benedictus Stolz. 

I won’t even try to tell the rest of the story, but this essay is very good. You can get a sense for it here and see some of the photographs, but I encourage you to read the version published in Ploughshares. 

Thing the Second

The other issue that I’m carrying around with me is issue 96.4 of Prairie Schooner, which appears to be the Winter 2022 issue. Ángel García’s portfolio on history is absolutely brilliant. It’s a collection of works by a dozen authors who reflect on history not from the dusty center, but from the vibrant, bustling, and diverse fringes. Many of the contributors are women and their work connects history to motherhood in a particularly engaging way.

What is most remarkable about this portfolio is that so few of the pieces deliberate invoke history as the lens through which they see the present and their past. When I teach historical methods, my students eagerly expect me to argue that historians have a monopoly on producing the best version of the past and a responsibility to critique (or even try to stamp out) “flawed versions” produced by other means.

I try hard to tell them that this is not how it works. In fact, I remind them consistently that historians learn as much from non-historians as the dry-as-dust technical literature churned out by contemporary history factories. Again, I’m not going to try to survey or summarize the work in this remarkable portfolio not to privilege my voice over theirs, but to encourage you to go and buy this issue (or read it when it’s live on Project Muse).

Thing the Third

I do have more reading to do. I’ve also been carrying around Conjunctions 90: Ways of Water. So far it has exceeded expectations. I rediscovered Conjunctions in their last issue (79) when they included a brilliant poem by Fred Moten titled “Sylph Set.” After a bit of fumbling around I managed to get a subscription and the first issue that I received focuses on water not only as a resource, but as a metaphor: tears, creeks, rivers, waves. 

As I look out my raining window this morning, water is on my mind. The violence of the weather, the risk of floods, water’s cleansing power, and finally how access to water is weaponized and commercialized in the 21st century makes water especially relevant as we try to negotiation a saturated world.

You can check out the volume here.