By Micheline Aharonian Marcom and Fowzia Karimi
ISBN: 9781628974508
Publication Date: 6/13/23
A conversation between two artists in text and image, side by side.
small pieces is a collaboration between novelist Micheline Aharonian Marcom and writer and visual artist Fowzia Karimi, pairing Marcom’s short stories (or “miniatures” as Marcom calls them) with watercolors done by Karimi.
Other Books by Micheline Aharonian Marcom
Praise for Micheline Aharonian Marcom
"Marcom's lyrical prose casts light on the extremes of emotion and the resilience with which we are capable of dealing with lost love." —Publishers Weekly
Biographical Information
Micheline Aharonian Marcom is the author of seven novels, including a trilogy of books about the Armenian genocide and its aftermath in the 20th century. She has received fellowships and awards from the Lannan Foundation, the Whiting Foundation, and the US Artists’ Foundation.
Fowzia Karimi has a background in visual arts and biology. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from Mills College, California. Her work explores the correspondence on the page between the written and visual arts. She is a recipient of The Rona Jaffe Foundation Writers’ Awards (2011). She is the author of Above Us the Milky Way (Deep Vellum, 2020). She lives in Denton, Texas.
Excerpt
Misericordia Is a Virtue As Long as It Doesn’t Fall Merely Into Passive Sentiment or Sentimentality
The lobsters lie piled one atop the other in the aquarium at the supermarket where for $12.99 a pound you can buy a fresh! one for your dinner. Thick red and yellow rubber-bands clamp the crustaceans’ front claws together restricting, thereby, their mobility. Those of the uppermost animal layer lurch hurly-burly across an agitated landscape, while the lowest tiers of the living or dying lie mostly immobile in their own handicapped state. I stopped for a moment to admire what I might eat at some future hour and I noticed the colorful rubber-bands, the massive hobbled front claws, the strata of light-brown bodies, the jerky movements of two walkers as they pitched toward the glass and away, each animal an unholy merchandise available at the supermarket from 7 in the morning until 11 at night three miles from where I live, one hundred and eighty-seven miles from the sea.