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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...

From the start he was thrown in at the deep-end when the head keeper just handed him a pail of steaks and hustled him through the gates of the enclosure The thinking was that, since he was Jewish and not Christian, the lions would not have a taste for him Roth was dubious, but complied   The way to be was fearless but non-confrontational ‘Show them who is boss’ was the mantra Keepers before him had felt the temptation to become pally with the lions, to try and become friends with them They had paid the price So: ‘Show them who is boss’ They had filed into the lecture theatre to have a seminar right at the beginning of their terms at the zoo At the front a bushy-faced keeper had given them a brief talk on precisely this subject The talk was entitled ‘Show them who is Boss’ They had shown clips from Grizzly Man, mainly the sequences from just before Treadwell’s death The elderly keeper had stood guffawing at the back He was an ex-Kossack He was a traditionalist when it came to death The lions sat in the cages Roth had been told that the more intelligent the lion the more impossible he could be The more mangy, the more bedraggled and lazy-eyed and ghetto-looking the lion, the less you should worry Those lions weren’t intelligent enough to be mean Roth put his shoulders back every day and strode, like Clinton, into the enclosure The point was about body language They had to know that he wasn’t a man to mess with He looked out into the audience sometimes to see the anxious crowds, anxious for him Inside his head, he snorted at them Inside his head, he tossed his head What he had come to realize was that the lions were less interested in him than each other This realization came as a relief If he ever got knocked about it was usually an accident The day-to-day challenge was not to tame them; the day-to-day challenge was to get them at

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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fiction

October 2013

Last Supper in Seduction City

Álvaro Enrigue

TR. Brendan Riley

fiction

October 2013

 ‘. . . and the siege dissolved to peace, and the horsemen all rode down in sight of the...

feature

December 2012

Confessions of an Agoraphobic Victim

Dylan Trigg

feature

December 2012

The title of my essay has been stolen from another essay written in 1919.[1] In this older work, the...

feature

Issue No. 1

(Un)timely considerations on old and current issues

Donatien Grau

feature

Issue No. 1

Criticism has not been doing well lately. The London Review of Books, Europe’s biggest-selling literary publication, would no longer...

 

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