Winter is upon us, and though the seasons have changed, the times have yet to follow suit. Our staff came together to share some reads varied in subject—Nietzsche, the tragic lives of artists, apocalypse narratives, and pandemic poems—but tethered by theme: imaginative escape and the vitality of hope.

At its heart, the book is an enigmatic work of geopolitical surrealism. Its symbols do not add up; it is full of secrecy without any secret.

How are we going to get out of this?

How are we going to get out of this?

I wondered: After all the time we had spent together, had we been placed on this path to collide unavoidably at the end of her life?

This past July, the Sewanee Review held its third annual Fiction, Poetry, and Nonfiction contest. This year we received nearly seven hundred submissions. Today we are pleased to announce the winners.

Let us see through to the center of this maze and focus on what is still beautiful and good. And if we are smart and determined, let us find our path out of this trap.

There will be no putting things back together the way they were before. Like a house ripped apart, like a rift in a family tree, like a country ravaged by pandemic—we must commit to becoming something new. Something made of equal parts heartache and healing.

Every year, we close the summer with our Labor Day staff picks. Though this summer never officially began, our staff has suggested some books to help keep the time over this long weekend, and beyond.

Además de la valentía y la fuerza de trabajo que fueron necesarias para vivir en el pasado en la Patagonia, creo que una de las cosas que me interesaban mientras escribía este libro eran las diferentes maneras en que se intenta aprehender con el lenguaje la naturaleza y nuestra forma de vivir en ella, la variedad de matices que surgen en ese intento.