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Kevin Brazil
Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London Review of Books, the Times Literary Supplement, Art Review, art-agenda, Studio International, and elsewhere. He is writing a book about queer happiness.

Articles Available Online


Alvaro Barrington, Garvey: Sex Love Nurturing Famalay

Art Review

October 2019

Kevin Brazil

Art Review

October 2019

The unofficial anthem of this year’s London Carnival was ‘Famalay’, a bouyon-influenced soca song that won the Road March in Trinidad & Tobago’s Carnival...

Essay

October 2018

The Uses of Queer Art

Kevin Brazil

Essay

October 2018

In June 2018 a crowd assembled in Tate Britain to ask: ‘What does a queer museum look like?’ Surrounded...

The White Review · Cecilia Knapp – ‘All My Ex Boyfriends Are Having A Dinner Party’ all my ex boyfriends are having a dinner party   comparing their tight obliques how red their meat hattricks for their grassroots teams saying they once had me in a car how I can never keep my mouth shut I always wanted to stay the night I’m dieting again burning my hands sipping low cal miso on a moving train I smile at other joggers like I’m enjoying this the dentist says I have yellow teeth his hands holding my tongue mum said there is nothing you can’t do so long as you’re wearing washing up gloves a purple leaflet in the waiting room asks me if life has worked out a) better b) worse or c) the same for one thousand pounds I can fix my teeth mum used to ballroom dance a wooden spoon weeping with the radio I’ve been keeping my fallen eye lashes in a bag I spit pink foam into the sink decide this week I will eat only eggs until the days smudge do the fat burn challenge pain is a man in a blue suit I see people eating crisps in public on Mondays like they have no guilt     The White Review · Cecilia Knapp – ‘We Girls Our Names’ We girls our names   on pink keyrings, him gargling a shadow outside dad’s house He can’t come in At the petrol station he buys a bottle, a cigarette between us Christmas stink swings from the rear-view, I lean to kiss the blond grit on his chin, my neck sliced by the seatbelt Our scents quickening, the Lynx hiding faith, tongues bleached mint At 14 I’m all worship, small knowing, a seal pup in waiting legs newly slick from dad’s razor Later

Contributor

July 2018

Kevin Brazil

Contributor

July 2018

Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London...

Nora Ikstena's ‘Soviet Milk’

Book Review

August 2018

Kevin Brazil

Book Review

August 2018

Soviet Milk by Nora Ikstena opens with two women who cannot remember. ‘I don’t remember 15 October 1969,’ says the first. ‘I don’t remember...

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Prize Entry

April 2017

The Critic of Tombs

Ethan Davison

Prize Entry

April 2017

Emilia came to Tombs [1] in the twelfth year of the interregnum. It was the first time in history...

fiction

June 2016

Beast

Paul Kingsnorth

fiction

June 2016

I stood in the river up to my knees and the river was cold. The water filled my boots...

Art

May 2016

Sharon Hayes

Edwina Attlee

Art

May 2016

Sharon Hayes’ In My Little Corner of the World, Anyone Would Love You at Studio Voltaire features a five-channel...

 

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