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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...

Taxi The taxi stopped and Henry climbed into the taxi The taxi driver went around the block three times before finally deciding to head to the train station Henry thought about complaining but the bag was bulky and cumbrous, his arms were arching, his hands were red, and so the three times around the block helped with restitutio in integrum Henry had been reading Latin They say it is language in a state of moribundity It is not yet dead and so the death scene can be compared to Othello’s Henry had also been reading Shakespeare, something at school he had omitted with the help of cigarettes and a coquettish thirteen year old that showed her underwear for the last two drags on the cigarette She always wore white cotton panties Now Henry dreamed of white cotton panties At the time he thought the girl and her white cotton panties a parasite, not worth the energy to expel the spit in his gob He always handed over the cigarette smeared with his spit The girl never seemed to mind She pulled on the cigarette as though it was very dangerous and she was behaving very naughty The morning sun made Henry feel uncomfortable He would have liked to change places with the bulky and cumbrous bag which was in the shade The taxi driver was no longer looking up the long road; his eyes had been diverted by a pair of long legs Henry and taxi driver eyed the woman about to cross the road She was wearing a fancy black dress and the pearls around her neck caught the sun The taxi driver slowed down the taxi Henry had to lean over and rest his elbows on the bulky and cumbrous bag The woman walked into the road and was hit by a van The van stopped The taxi had to stop Henry almost broke his neck The woman in the middle of the road was dead A pool of blood was slowly forming around her Henry thought of Desdemona A crowd gathered around her as flies around

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...

READ NEXT

feature

November 2014

The Last Redoubt

Scott Esposito

feature

November 2014

As they say of politics, I have found essay-writing to be the art of the possible. Certain work can...

poetry

November 2013

Rescue Me

George Szirtes

poetry

November 2013

Pain comes like this: packaged in a moment of hubris with a backing band too big for its own...

poetry

February 2015

In bed with the radio

Péter Závada

TR. Mark Baczoni

poetry

February 2015

IN BED WITH THE RADIO   You’d turned against me. There’s safety in knowing, I thought. Like lying in...

 

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