On September 13, 2019, Minna Dubin, a mother in Berkeley, California, published a brief, confessional essay in the Times’ parenting section titled “The Rage Mothers Don’t Talk About.” Under the subtitle—“Mothers are supposed to be patient martyrs, so our rage festers beneath our shame”— there was a photograph, taken from behind, of a woman and a boy of two or three. They sat side by side on a shaded stoop, their arms linked, and seemed to be examining something in a shrub beside them. The boy was shirtless and had a small brown mark in the middle of his back. The top of his head was level with the woman’s shoulder. Like many boys of his age, the bottom of his hair had grown longer and thicker than the rest of it, curling into a soft, wide triangle that sloped down his neck. At the moment the photograph was taken, he seemed to be readying himself to pull away—although it was impossible to know for sure.
この記事は The New Yorker の September 25, 2023 版に掲載されています。
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この記事は The New Yorker の September 25, 2023 版に掲載されています。
7 日間の Magzter GOLD 無料トライアルを開始して、何千もの厳選されたプレミアム ストーリー、9,000 以上の雑誌や新聞にアクセスしてください。
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ART OF STONE
\"The Brutalist.\"
MOMMA MIA
Audra McDonald triumphs in \"Gypsy\" on Broadway.
INTERNATIONAL AFFAIRS
\"Black Doves,\" on Netflix.
NATURE STUDIES
Kyle Abraham's “Dear Lord, Make Me Beautiful.”
WHAT GOOD IS MORALITY?
Ask not just where it came from but what it does for us
THE SPOTIFY SYNDROME
What is the world's largest music-streaming platform really costing us?
THE LEPER - LEE CHANGDONG
. . . to survive, to hang on, waiting for the new world to dawn, what can you do but become a leper nobody in the world would deign to touch? - From \"Windy Evening,\" by Kim Seong-dong.
YOU WON'T GET FREE OF IT
Alice Munro's partner sexually abused her daughter. The harm ran through the work and the family.
TALK SENSE
How much sway does our language have over our thinking?
TO THE DETECTIVE INVESTIGATING MY MURDER
Dear Detective, I'm not dead, but a lot of people can't stand me. What I mean is that breathing is not an activity they want me to keep doing. What I mean is, they want to knock me off. My days are numbered.