By Bill Caraher A couple weeks ago my friend David Haeselin posted a nice review of Deerhunter’s Double Dream of Spring on the North Dakota Quarterly page. I’ve listened to the album, and I can’t really find much to say about it (and certainly can’t say anything as eloquent as Dave has).
This past week, North Dakota Quarterly editorial board member Eric Burin was on Jack Russell Weinstein’s Why? radio show on Fargo’s Prairie Public Radio. Eric discusses his forthcoming book project Protesting on Bended Knee: Race, Dissent, and Patriotism in 21st Century America which brings together over 30 essays considering Colin Kaepernick, protests, race, and sports in
by Gayatri Devi In August 1990 I was a newly arrived international student in the doctoral program in English at the University of North Dakota. I had arrived from India a couple of weeks prior to the start of the fall semester. The residence halls and dining halls were more
A Review of Deerhunter’s Double Dream of Spring By Dave Haeselin A confession: I haven’t listened to Deerhunter since 2007, the year that saw the release of the band’s album Cryptograms. Their music never really spoke to me and I had plenty of other bands to listen to. 2007 is
“Earth may be considered as a small spaceship with limited supplies or resources revolving around the sun with the human race as the crew and the United States and other highly developed nations as the officers. The entire crew is responsible for those actions which modify the ship’s condition, i.e.
As I write this, I’m off to California (for a trad musician like myself, such an act cannot help but summon this song) in search of a little “gentle abrasion.” That’s a salaciously poetic way of stating what, in plainer terms, amounts to a more humble kind of declaration. I’m
Greetings! I’m Sheila, nonfiction editor here at NDQ, and I’m taking over blog responsibilities for the next few weeks while Bill Caraher, our editor and publisher, is off doing field work in Greece. “I propose” (the thing took all his strength) “oh what the hell” he cried; “what’s stopping
Upon Retirement Jessica Walsh Tumble shine my bones, articulate me in the anatomy lab where all who used my name may scrape wrist and rib seek heart shell smell ghosted marrow tap my sternum as if to listen for my permission thrumming low down bones steer my jaw around what
North Dakota Quarterly 