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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...

Another Autumn Journal Chaos (AKA Do Not Put This to Music Because You’re How Fish Put Up a Fight)   I know what it means makes a great first line While you paid by credit card an alien inside burst out of a person Do not consider at least smarter song lyrics My mental health or something like my mental health said you were forlorn online The light of the screen was a poem about looking up at you in the shower while I was beginning to undress to be in the shower with you An egg just fell from the sky and cracked An usher came over to tell me to turn my smartphone off so I paused the movie we were streaming I’m thinking intensify most statements exchanged Yeah an egg just fell from the big grey sky We thought we were going to be late for the ballet I really hope Anonymous doesn’t blow his fucking brains out in the restaurant Anonymous started to sing in the way I used to like a young Benny Hill There were no celebrities present The sky was indigo when I told you I’d been atmospheric as a kid The ballet cast seemed so beautiful in the shower I mean wow Then we said we loved each other We got over this When Anonymous says he loves me I tell him I love him too except he got Anonymous pregnant sometimes My love is sometimes a small bird that’s a bomb You responded by saying that I make you feel like there is no fucking orchestra and then we told your face and mine I said ‘Is there no orchestra?’ You were like ‘Pure No’ We put the most beautiful thing down beneath you because you were menstruating The ballet was non-committal Involuntarily shit I was just staring at my smartphone in an insurmountable poem You said ‘That’s not the point I’m making You always panic when parking the car’ You want to make me sing again but not like a young Benny Hill I laughed like a loon off camera because you told me you hated that neither of us seemed phased by the cool rain, chronic depression or no chronic depression during sex

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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feature

October 2012

Pressed Up Against the Immediate

Rye Dag Holmboe

feature

October 2012

The author Philip Pullman recently criticised the overuse of the present tense in contemporary literature, a criticism he stretched...

Interview

January 2016

Interview with Tor Ulven

Cecilie Schram Hoel

Alf van der Hagen

TR. Benjamin Mier-Cruz

Interview

January 2016

Tor Ulven gave this interview, his last, a year and a half before he died, leaving behind a language...

feature

July 2012

Theatre's Arab Turn

Tanjil Rashid

feature

July 2012

Apart from the odd Shakespearean exception, from Othello the Moor of Venice to the Merchant of Venice’s marginal Moroccan...

 

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