At last our new online purchasing system is up and running. Once again you can subscribe to MQR online–there’s still time to order our Winter issue–and for the first time you can now order individual issues online as well.
Prepare for the next blast of cold and snow–browse our online store and order enough fascinating reading to last you till spring. Then curl up with MQR and your beverage of choice, and you’ll forget all about the weather.
* nonfiction by John Felstiner from MQR 53:4 Fall 2014 * I lift up a slim item of frayed, folded pages: a letter, an airmail letter. It’s World War II V ∙ ∙ ∙ — MAIL which I remember well, though less intimately than I recall the newsprint, foil, flimsy War Ration Books, V-Garden carrots, countless crayon sketches of US and RAF planes soaring above flame-drenched landscapes. Also an early stab of grief and loss: April 12, 1945, Franklin Delano Roosevelt dies.
* poetry by Kara Van De Graf from MQR 53:3, Summer 2014 *
From the grandmother of my grandmother, it lives
at the footboard of the bed, passed down to me
by my own mother. As a child, I traced
the blonde-wood petals of flowers, the garden
etched with dark walnut vines. And below,
near a lip of scrollwork, two narrow drawers kept
in check by a key. It was only when I slid
the drawers from their runners that I noticed
* nonfiction by Marcin Otto, from Stefanie Wortman’s essay in MQR 53:3 Summer 2014 * In early 1940, several months into the Nazi occupation, Elektoralna found itself in the middle of a huge quarter called the Warsaw Ghetto, surrounded by a tall wall. Eleonora was Jewish but apparently she abandoned the flat with her children and stayed outside of the Ghetto, concealing their Jewish identities. In practice, it was a question of whether you looked Semitic and had the papers in order.
* fiction by Courtney Sender, excerpted from MQR 53:2, Spring 2014 * Look, the truth of the way of the world is that David loves Moira enough to move to the middle of Nothing, England, for her, and Moira doesn’t love David enough to pick up the goddamned phone.
All David wants to do is warn her: