Issue 3 - Spring/Summer 2001

From the Editors

"The way in which failbetter strives to set itself apart from other journals can only be achieved by the work itself. It is the artists, then, that we have thanked and continue to thank for making such a difference possible."

Fiction

Flashback, or Why Nobody Won the Fight Between Our Fathers in Walt Wilmer’s Toolshed ..... Sam Lipsyte

"It was our fathers, Cudahy’s father, my father, that toolshed not big enough for the one father, let alone two, no room at all in there, really, rake tines porcupined out of barrels, leaf-blowers resting on tarp heaps, hoes, spades, tool chests, bait boxes, cartons of nuts, of bolts, of screws and gears and nails, the weekend handyman’s arsenal, his ammo dump, all manner of thingamabob there in casual stockpilage in that dank, mouse-turded dark."

"Ark"..... Pamela Ryder

"The daughter notes how the leaves droop, the way the stems bend and wilt: hollyhocks, hydrangea, blue meadow rue. The delphiniums are long gone. The roses--going. The horse chestnut lost its leaves a season early. The square that once was lawn has long since turned to thatch."

"Flight"..... Peter Christopher

"From the darkness, a bird's whistle rouses him. He kneels in the mud and the leaves where he has slept. He lurches up alert, not bothering to brush the leaves from his prison coveralls. The weight of the pruning shears in a back pocket tugs down his coveralls."

"Echo"..... Jane Unrue

"... He steps off the curb and sees ahead of him a wall of light with what appear to be some little figures painted on the light. "Go back!" he cries out like a man who has a wall of light ahead of him, "to any day in any month in any year and you will find a man who once went floating without hope of ending up at any shoreline, not to mention seeing any little figures drawn into the sand." He steps into the street."

"Once, Twice, Three Times"..... Dawn Raffel

"Elise, who appeared to the aunt to be somehow engaged in appraising the place, said, "Is it, in fact? Is it morning again?" She raised herself, elbowed up only ever so slightly, damp at the breast, it seemed to the aunt, and fair, unwholseomely so at the neck as if sun had not touched her. And yet, the aunt knew better, did she not? The bedding had traveled."

Interview

Ben Marcus

"My new book is actually a novel, and I have no trouble calling it that. The publisher will also call it that. It may even be written on the front of the book. Some reviewers might disagree, because it is episodic in structure, and good arguments can be made, by people who care about that stuff, against its...  novelness."

Poetry

"Descending Argot of a Retired Hog Farmer" ..... M Sarki

"This is his chunky
pottage. His resolute
acumen for chowder.''

"Daniella in the Palace" ..... M Sarki

"The Replete Performance of My Only Esquire" ..... M Sarki

"Everything for Moppel" .... M Sarki

"Potatoes" ..... Doug Tanoury

"I stood before a pile of potatoes
In the grocery store today
That somehow strangely seemed
To awaken memories in me
For they were large
With irregular bulges and scars
With a sandpaper texture
Dirty and rough
Like my father's hands''

"Eggplant" ..... Doug Tanoury

"Winter Pears" ..... Doug Tanoury

"Autumn Inside Me" ..... Doug Tanoury

Art

"Ode to Keats"..... Durlabh Singh

"Since Duchamp’s ‘urinal’, visual art in the western world has suffered a shock and a decline. It has become more conceptual, excluding depiction of human form with all its spiritual and physical contents..."

"Bird of Time"..... Durlabh Singh

"Claws of Moon" ..... Durlabh Singh

"Crouching Woman" ..... Durlabh Singh

"Girl in Green" ..... Durlabh Singh