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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...

EYES TO THE RIGHT, NOSE TO THE LEFT     I had heard wrong Someone was weeping   *   But I couldn’t tell where the sound was coming from  The expression took me back to my childhood and an Eagle Eyes action man who had a little serrated switch at the back of his head You moved your hand against the mechanism bedded into the fuzz of his crew cut and there — the eyes moved To the left, to the right You dressed him in his combat gear You undressed him and redressed him in another kind of camouflage  He was your brother’s doll When you wanted him to play with Sindy something went wrong with the proportions: Sindy’s huge head and breasts and feet that looked like they had been bound, did not play well alongside him They each came from a different universe Her long nylon locks, his blonde fuzzy head It made sense to keep them apart   *   In error, on my eleventh birthday an elderly relative had given me a book of short stories It had been an honest mistake, but the stories were not meant for a child There was a picture of a doll’s house on the front Unlike Sindy and Eagle Eyes, the dolls in the book were designed to copulate All the little fitting together pieces of plastic   *   I remembered when my daughter was only two how, we had flown from right to left across the world, and how in the dark, looking down from the plane windows, all we could see beneath us were the blazing fires, oil on water, as we crossed the Gulf   *   I remembered, as every day I remembered, the teacher, the line of her make up, and the dirty blue of her skirt as she pressed herself against me  Everything came thick and fast I remembered the girl at school who had been on ‘Jim’ll Fix It’ I’d written to go on the show too I wanted to be an astronaut, light, light as air My friend came to school wearing her badge Jim Fixed It For Me

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 2016

Seasickness

David Isaacs

Prize Entry

April 2016

‘How would you begin?’   She puts a finger to her lips, a little wrinkled still from the water,...

Prize Entry

April 2015

I Told You...

Owen Booth

Prize Entry

April 2015

1. The Triumph of Capitalism   It was the end of the cold war and capitalism had won. Everywhere...

Art

November 2012

Pending performance: Cally Spooner’s live production

Isabella Maidment

Art

November 2012

It’s 1957 and the press release still isn’t written[1] An actress dressed in black overalls stands on a theatrically...

 

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