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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...

The jolts of the tracks were stronger now and came at irregular intervals With my arms outstretched, I held myself up between the walls of the tiny cabin A metallic drone rose from the spattered steel-can, a whining and hissing and, now and again, something close to a laugh, something that had to have been crouching in the abyss, in the crushed stone of the railroad embankment, and it rang in my ears like a miserable Semey-Semey I wouldn’t be able to stay much longer, not unless I wanted to give some kind of explanation when I returned, something that would immediately become twice as long in the translator’s mouth and ten times as long in the consul’s ensuing comments   As far as I knew in the meantime it wasn’t illegal to have a Geiger counter On the contrary, European travel-guides recommended it as a means of reassuring travellers, though they emphasised that the measurable levels in most areas had been below acceptable limits for a long time now I’d never considered buying such a piece of equipment before, nor had I ever conceived the possibility of owning one And so the grey-green, already somewhat worn little box, and the way I’d got it right before the train left from one of the many hooded peddlers blocking the platform with their strange goods, was all the more precious and peculiar Almost everything held out to me as a ‘Souweniiiir!’ seemed to have come from the stockrooms of an empire and its army busy undergoing the process of total dissolution And yet I’d also seen mountains of meat, animal skins, raisins, bread, and nuts in half-covered children’s wagons, often in continuous movement, being pushed across the snow-covered platform right up to the steel treads of the railroad cars In the end, though, no

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

January 2012

Tynemouth Lodge

W. N. Herbert

poetry

January 2012

‘Sometimes I go to the tavern and get drunk.          What of it?’                                 Nesimi 1 Bars tend us...

feature

May 2011

Short Cuts

Charles Boyle

feature

May 2011

1.. Whatever it is that the literature department of Arts Council England (ACE) is for, it can’t be for...

poetry

January 2015

My Beloved Uncles

Tove Jansson

TR. Thomas Teal

poetry

January 2015

However tired of each other they must have grown from time to time, there was always great solidarity among...

 

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