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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...

Moments ago, the woman with the lovely dimples had been shivering, utterly ravaged by the evening, but now her face was plastered with a smile, her dimples deepening as she gathered up her clothes A moment ago she had been a newlywed, teeth chattering, pale and in agony Now she was a happy young divorcee   The man had already dissolved their union He had emphatically recited his three talaq: I divorce you, I divorce you, I divorce you Their first night together was also their last Sitting on the bed’s golden sheets with the scent of jasmine floating in the air, Dimples had taken stock of the situation Sweat still clung to her skin and her long hair fell across her back onto the pillow She was still half-naked but she had to leave immediately, because she was no longer the mistress of the house   There was the sound of the man’s impatient steps behind the door, keplak-keplak She recalled him stripping her naked and then undressing himself, just a short while ago Dimples had frozen like ice while that man was on fire, leaping upon her and thrusting ferociously Then he stopped for a moment, his forehead wrinkled Not for very long, but long enough for Dimples to ask silently, What’s wrong? Am I too young for you, Master? The man’s reply was to make the bed rattle like a palm tree branch being thrashed by a hurricane as he hurriedly finished his lovemaking Then they both lay back for a moment, flooded with sweat and gasping for breath   But the man was still on fire – not with desire, but with rage He threw a blanket over Dimples, jumped up from the bed and pulled on his shorts Without even looking in her direction, he cursed her before severing the ties between them, slamming the door of their wedding chamber with a final shout: ‘You whore!’   *   The woman with the two snot-nosed kids had watched stonily as the headman had bound Dimples and her destiny to that man Dimples didn’t have the strength to return her malicious stare – drowning in

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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poetry

Issue No. 2

Portraits of Pierre Reverdy and Three Poems

Sam Gordon

poetry

Issue No. 2

ANDRÉ BRETON The most memorable thing about our meetings [around 1919-1920] was the almost complete bareness of the room in...

feature

September 2014

The Mediatisation of Contemporary Writing

Nick Thurston

feature

September 2014

Trying to figure out what marks contemporary literature as contemporary is a deceptively complicated job because the concept of...

fiction

November 2014

The Ovenbird

César Aira

TR. Chris Andrews

fiction

November 2014

The hypothesis underlying this study is that human beings act in strict accordance with an instinctive programme, which governs...

 

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