articles in:
Fiction & Poetry

The Blind Girl: Village Memories

by Jennifer Manoukian | February 9th, 2012 | 1 comments

This is a translation of a short story by Zabel Yessayan, which was originally published in the first issue of Archag Tchobanian’s journal Dzaghig in 1895.

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The Revolutionary Preacher

by Aris Sevag | February 7th, 2012 | 1 comments

This is the seventh installment of Bedros A. Keljik’s Armenian-American Sketches, which were translated and annotated by Aris G. Sevag. “No Good Comes From Having Children in This Country,” along with a short biography of [...]

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Mrs. Zildjian and the Muslim Pendant

by Christopher Atamian | January 31st, 2012 | 0 comments

Lucine awoke from the three-hour apostolic service and turned her head from side to side. She looked up at the stained-glass windows and then at the beautiful crimson lanterns that her brother had designed for [...]

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Ode to the Night, Zabel Yessayan’s First Published Work

by Jennifer Manoukian | January 24th, 2012 | 1 comments

Translated by Jennifer Manoukian This poem, written at the age of seventeen, is Zabel Yessayan’s first published work. It appeared in the first volume of Arshag Chobanian’s literary journal Dzaghig (Constantinople) in 1895. Come, oh [...]

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Lola Koundakjian’s The Accidental Observer

by Christopher Atamian | December 28th, 2011 | 0 comments

A mulberry tree serendipitously discovered on West 87th Street. Fleeting memories of past loves and brief encounters. The changing of the seasons. These are some of the themes that Lola Koundakjian treats with sensitivity and [...]

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A Review of Mark T. Mustian’s The Gendarme

by Andrew Kevorkian | December 13th, 2011 | 2 comments

When Kim Novak, a “method”-trained actress asked Alfred Hitchcock what her motivation was to go up the tower in the film “Vertigo,” Hitchcock answered, “Just go up, dearie, it’s only a movie.” That anecdote comes [...]

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Three Poems by Alan Semerdjian

by Alan Semerdjian | November 29th, 2011 | 3 comments

Letters after Saroyan The War Department is a bucket of rain we left out on the porch. Each day the water gradually disappears like family members after holiday dinners; one by one the sleep takes [...]

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