Randomly selected articles from this year's issue

We Know

Saygun Gökarıksel, Writing Fellow, Doctoral Candidate in Anthropology


“When will they stop writing such letters,” thought the public administration officer. He had been working in the department responsible for answering the citizen’s complaints for more than a decade. Reading about other people’s problems, complaints, and life stories was a learning experience for him. When the letter was sufficiently attractive, he would then dream about what the author might look like. He spied on many strange faces, eavesdropped on many secret conversations, and recorded many previously unfamiliar stories to his diary as “words from friends.” He befriended those words that reminded him of the society he lived in even during his most solitary hours spent at his desk in the office. But how about this newly arrived letter? “Today everyone seems to be in ridiculously inflated debt with no prospects of repayment,” he thought. What was there to say ...

Dear Progeny,

Andrew Statum, Writing Fellow and Doctoral Candidate, English


Dear Progeny, The other day, my mother (your grandmother) came into my room (well, technically, as of this writing, it’s no longer “my” room, but serves as a guest room in the empty nest of my parents’ [so your grandparents’] roost) – she came with a small manila envelope and a handful of letters and 
envelopes and various folded papers bound together in twine into the guest room in which I happened to be lounging. She sat down on the edge of the bed and said they were letters, preserved over the years by her aunt (your great-great aunt) Peg, from my grandfather (so your great-grandfather) to various relations of his, mostly to his wife and mother (so if I have this right, that’d be your great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother, respectively?). She said I could have them if I wanted. She herself ...

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