Stevie and Ron's involvement, relationship, there were so many words, had to me become a thrilling romance. Pitted against the two intrepid lovers was the dark, threatening figure of my father. And I was stuck on the sidelines, watching the drama with some discomfort and jealousy, but with serious interest. In fact, I became obsessive about it in those months, as it got clearer that my brother himself was taking it more seriously, was thinking of it as a thing that would endure long into the future. I found it easier to focus on Stevie and Ron as protagonists in an erotic, potentially tragic performance than on my own aimless, rather farcical existence, which seemed to be winding down, emptying itself of meaning, as I approached the Inter, turned fifteen, and for the first time had to deal with the feeling of being different and alone.

- Gabriella West

Fall Issue, 1997

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The Literary Review: An International Journal of Contemporary Writing has been published quarterly by Fairleigh Dickinson University since 1957. Its many special issues have introduced new fiction, poetry, and essays from many nations, regions, or languages to English readers. Issues focus on such topics as contemporary Portugese literature, Iranian exiles, the Jewish diaspora, North African authors, and Russian women writers. Works from issues devoted to writing in English have won awards and been reprinted in many collections.

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