The Review

The Paris Review No. 172

Barry Hannah on self-hating Southerners, .45 caliber teaching tools, and overcoming alcoholism: “I was often taught that everything is worth it for art. Everything. It was a cult.” Disaster Remembered: “They stood in the black dust, talking, breathing, wondering at it. People came from all around in their cars and on their bikes to have a look. We didnít know that death could be so beautiful.” Strange new fiction from Haruki Murakami: “Okawa gobbled down the sardine, stripping it from head to tail, then cleaned his face. ‘That hit the spot. Much obliged. Iíd be happy to lick you somewhere, if youíd like . . .’”

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