Former Nass EIC, introducing herself: It’s so wonderful to meet you, I don’t even live here, and to walk into Barney Greengrass and see you wearing your Nass sweatshirt…
David Remnick: It’s the Jewish dream!
Overheard on the Upper West Side
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I run into the red
Let’s bundle up this longing to know another / fling curtains over doors / we need more blindness. I gawk at compasses / hallucinate edged circles / stop their revelatory revolutions. A matador’s calculations are never constant / I was formulated for distance. I run into the red, and the cloth is your palm. The…
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Blessed Jamie
“Jamie’s ghost pervaded every corner of our home like cobwebs. All of my flaws were seen through the lens of his perfection, even though we had never actually met.”
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Once Upon a Time, There Was a Mountain – Part 2: The Persimmons
“In 1966, some children came, a line of red dots ascending the trail. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old. They called themselves Red Guards. They came up the mountain with crowbars and red armbands, and they smashed the altar and broke the bell and tore the books and cut the persimmon trees.”
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i beg to be built again
“i wonder what it’s like to have a body that doesn’t feel like an afterthought hacked together with whatever spare parts god could find as he ran out of time to get me down to earth.”
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Freud’s Eternal Apartment
A Nass writer wonders how the past and present can coexist in space, applying Freud’s own concept of the Eternal City to Berggasse 19.
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Letter From The Editor
Dear friends, Once, I took a wheel throwing class. I was there for two hours and in all that time I didn’t make anything. I tried my best to mold the clay on the wheel into something that looked nice or, at the very least, would hold up in the kiln, but I walked…
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YéYe’s Razor Clams
Fujianese people are a people of the ocean. After six decades of political turmoil and unprecedented developments, has that changed?
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Once Upon a Time, There Was a Mountain – Pt 1: The Butterfly
‘“Tell me a story,” the little monk piped up. “Ma always told me a story before bed.” The old monk gave him the simplest one he knew, which was also the only one he knew.’