n+1, Issue 20: Survival (Fall 2014)
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
n+1 is a New York–based American literary magazine that publishes social criticism, political commentary, essays, art, poetry, book reviews, and short fiction. It is published three times each year, and content is published on its website several times each week. Each print issue averages around 200 pages in length.
This upload is NOT part of my ongoing project. This .pdf was released officially by n+1 through their online archive. The only edits I made to this .pdf was making the table of contents clickable.
Read this magazine if you like: leftist politics and anything literary.
No care for the caregivers, no luck for the narcos. Should artists get paid? Check your privilege! David Samuels goes to the Grammys. Frank Guan reviews Tao Lin. New fiction from Akhtiorskaya and Zink.
Stephen said. “Do you know what’s happening to his gonads?” “No.” “As his chin turns black, his testes are swelling from the size of pinheads to the looming, ponderous bulk of coffee beans.” “Wow,” I said. The Wallcreeper 29 He kissed me. “His tiny heart is throbbing with love for someone he’s never seen. I love you, too, you know.” He embraced me, squeezing me very tight. “I love you so much, Tiffany.” The wallcreeper protested. “Cool your jets, Rudolf,” Stephen said. He had named our bird
wasting your time and mine.” “You’re not wasting my time,” she said, without conviction. Looking very ancient all of a sudden, he got to his knees and, eventually, to his feet. He hobbled away to the bathroom, turned the lock. Helpless Comprehension 65 A tremendous sob ripped through walls. Then it was quiet, eerily so. How should she act? Pretend nothing had happened or comfort him and comfort how? She could be busy! She grabbed the Xeroxed packet that was his treasure trove of equations,
be described as whimsical, and yet no less easily as somber. Neither aspect was uncommon in American narrations of the early third millennium, nor was it rare for both to manifest within a single narrative, but their relative proportion varied wildly. Enormous sums of cheery froth could be swept around a miserable grain of salt; pessimism could be magnified to such a scale and accompanied by such groundless, blatant moralizing as to render the entire project faintly, yet indelibly, ludicrous.
that, echoing Eeeee Eee Eeee, Paul spends as that the emphasis on mental self-modi- long stretches of later chapters of Taipei fication of Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy with his face covered by a blanket—in short, and Richard Yates finds a parallel in the that Taipei stands in relation to the other The only person I could possibly imagine thinking that way is the person who has just transposed, eloquently, his mentality over another consciousness—Paul, or rather the author into whom Paul is
frustrating identification of his body for several hours.”) If there were an overarching message in the essay, the message, I suspect now, would be phrased as a self-directed imperative to see clearly and to write with even greater clarity, with an addendum that the only way to do so was to criticize one’s own delusions without self-righteousness and self-love, or with as little as humanly possible. If American society, not so much hateful as implacably indifferent to your experience, was