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Black Lamb


Now in its 14th year of publication, this magazine was created to offer the discerning reader a stimulating selection of excellent original writing. Black Lamb Review is a literate rather than a literary publication. Regular columns by writers in a variety of geographic locations and vocations are supplemented by features, reviews, articles on books and authors, and a selection of “departments,” including an acerbic advice column and a lamb recipe.


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Archive for February, 2015

February 2014 in Black Lamb

Volume 13, Number 2 — February 2015

February 1st, 2015

In February’s issue we begin with Democracy modern-style, an essay by Terry Ross in which he notes the disappearance of a once-beloved institution. In Big fish, Elizabeth Fournier hymns the joys of living in the country or a small town. John Daniel remembers his career in the entertainment industry in Selling the song. In To Kurdish Turkey, Lorentz Lossius continues his travel diary. Toby Tompkins writes of a dream in Dead low water. In State of Italy, part 5, Dan Peterson examines some of the institutions of his adopted country. Brad Bigelow reviews a book about Leo Stein, art collector and brother of Gertrude. And M.A. Orthofer looks at the neglected East German author Irmtraud Morgner.

We welcome two new members into our gallery of Honorary Black Lambs: influential playwright Bertolt Brecht and Canadian novelist Morley Callaghan, who once beat up Hemingway in a boxing match. Bridge columnist Trixie Barkis dreams up some new dilemmas to get your teeth into, we offer a delicious lamb recipe for Lancashire Hot Pot, advice columnist Millicent Marshall holds forth again, and Professor Kahn once more challenges us with a word puzzle. •

Posted by: The Editors
Category: Month summaries | Link to this Entry

Big fish

The joys of country and small-town life

February 1st, 2015


Living and working in the country offers fantastic benefits. My funeral parlour is situated on 30 country acres, complete with deer statuary and antique farming equipment. The funeral home building is a remodeled goat barn surrounded by lush groves of trees where I hold outdoor funerals; couples have been married in the funeral home itself.

On beautiful sunny days I tool down the country lane in front of the funeral home. I keep my windows down and the music up loud. Sometimes I get stuck behind a combine or a rickety school bus because the parlour is on scenically busy Highway 224 and snakes along the beautiful Clackamas River. Often a car slows in front of me and I can’t see what is going on because of a long line of cars or because the sun is in my eyes. I go slowly around the turns and see that a large piece of machinery is ahead along the way. This always happens when I have to get back quickly because a family is due to meet me at the funeral home. Or I have to hurry back to type out a death certificate and get it into the mailbox before the little postal Jeep comes by. Country life runs on a clock that moves to the rhythms of random farm equipment on the road.

Read the rest of this entry »

Posted by: The Editors
Category: Fournier | Link to this Entry


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