Milk, Scone, Watermelon, Words

The invention of a woman

“With my eyes I blindly seek the breast: I want thick milk. No one taught me to want. But I already want. I’m lying with my eyes open looking at the ceiling. Inside is the darkness. An I that pulses already forms. There are sunflowers. There is tall wheat. I is.” – Clarice Lispector, Água Viva “Only afterwards does fear come, the pacification of fear, the denial of fear––in a word, civilization. Meanwhile, atop the naked table, the screaming slice of red watermelon. I am. . . Read more
Mae Mattia
Grave Disposition

What I saw where my ancestors rest

On the J4 bus to Waterbury, I pulled out my notebook and wrote two lines: “Isabel Gillis,” my distant English relative, and “my mom’s mom’s mom’s grave,” the reason I was on the bus. It was a blustery mid-September day, and I was headed to meet Isabel so that we could tour old family dwellings together. The bus slowly made its way from the New Haven Green, passing through a landscape of strip malls and overgrown medians. In 1909, my great-great grandfather John Gillis immigrated. . . Read more
Isaac Kirk-Davidoff
Talk Of the Townie

A local takes a turn as a Yale tour guide

“Give the facts, but share your personal experience,” says Joe Admissions, making friendly eye contact with the table of new recruits. When I applied to be a summer tour guide, I thought the job would be particularly easy for me, considering I grew up in New Haven and fancy myself as having some insider knowledge. Then, I read the “Yale Tour Facts” sheet and realized I didn’t know any of the bullet points. Some were interesting. A couple were wrong. Most were myths about statues.. . . Read more
Sophie Dillon