Can the work of mothering and everyday acts of care merge with efforts to achieve social justice?
As the urban poor are displaced to metropolitan peripheries, policing and punishment have become more suburban.
During the Civil War, the Lincoln administration demonstrated that a progressive agenda and effective anti-inflationary measures could overlap.
“Who gets to decide what is valuable and necessary work for an academic today?”
Three new poetry collections depart on a cosmic journey to reckon with ecology and our relations to a suffering earth.
For decades, undocumented Americans have been asked to tell their stories, in the hopes that this would galvanize political change. Did it work?
How to catch a killer who only exists in a parallel world?
A new film centers on a young, unmarried woman’s attempts to secure an abortion—over a decade before France legalized the practice in 1973.
Howard Becker pointed out that critics, curators, suppliers, and administrators are as important to the creation of art as artists themselves.
Pamela Adlon reveals the mundane project of motherhood to be vast, fluid, and fascinating in its own right.
“Consider the laughter on October 15, 1982—after 1,000 people died from complications related to AIDS—at the Reagan White House press briefing.”
“When did everyone become Black and not of specific nations themselves? Why did being Black mean not belonging to a place?”
“We’ve never had a period like this in modern American history,” lamented Governor DeSantis in April 2020, one with “such little new content.”
A behind-the-scenes look at what Public Books editors and staff have been reading this month.
Does loving a work of literature mean seizing it? How should critics feel about their feelings toward a text?
Maria Dahvana Headley’s translation of “Beowulf” forces us to think about what we need to be true about the past, and our access to it.
“I always thought that the challenge of writing my grandmother’s story was capturing her singular voice. Rereading her emails, I remember why.”
Lamming never lets readers forget that within that one man—as within all of us—is a boiling multitude.
His characters—in 1919 Ireland, 1857 India, and 1940 Singapore—intuit that the world is about to collapse. But they can do nothing to save it.