= Subscribers only. Sign in here. Subscribe here.

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

1915 / January | View All Issues |

January 1915

Fiction

164, 253-256, f256, 257-269 PDF

The turmoil·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

A novel (chaps. XXII-XXVI)


Article

165-172, f172, 173-175 PDF

With Lincoln at the White House·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

From the unpublished diaries of John Hay

Fiction

176-189 PDF

The captive bridegroom·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Article

190-198 PDF

Can our diplomatic service be made more efficient?·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Poetry

198 PDF

Thistledown·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Fiction

199-210 PDF

Sour sweetings·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Article

211-222 PDF

Harbor voyages·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Fiction

223-232 PDF

The gorilla·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Article

233-244 PDF

Work and weather·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Fiction

245-251 PDF

The phoenix·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Article

252, f252 PDF

“Mrs. Alexander Campbell,” by Sir Henry Raeburn·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Fiction

270-278 PDF

Dividing up·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Poetry

278 PDF

The new house·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Article

279-288, f288, 289-291 PDF

Cannibal country·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Poetry

291 PDF

Triumph·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Fiction

292, f292, 293-296, f296, 297-299 PDF

Young love·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Fiction

300, f300, 301-306, f306, 307-308 PDF

Bondage·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s easy chair

309-312 PDF

Editor’s easy chair·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s easy chair

309-312 PDF

Editor’s easy chair·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s study

313-316 PDF

Editor’s study·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s study

313-316 PDF

Editor’s study·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

317-319 PDF

Breakfast for two·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

317-324 PDF

Editor’s drawer·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

A thought·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

The joy-riders·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

The dance·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

Night and day·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

The whole duty of girls·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

The Man Modiste·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

A happy thought·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

System·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

Looking forward·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Collection, Editor’s drawer

320 PDF

A modern child’s garden of verses·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

321 PDF

Pantheistic·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

321 PDF

Prejudiced·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

321 PDF

Getting down to his level·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

321 PDF

Editor’s drawer·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

321 PDF

He wondered·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

321 PDF

The modern mother·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

322 PDF

Editor’s drawer·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

322 PDF

Following a precedent·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

322 PDF

A woman’s right·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

322 PDF

A wrong entry·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

322 PDF

Division of labor·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

322 PDF

Moses and Mother·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

323 PDF

How David reckoned·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

323 PDF

A timely warning·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

323 PDF

On the foamy deep·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

323 PDF

Putting it into practise·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

323 PDF

Sticking to his post·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

323 PDF

A lady’s man·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

324 PDF

Editor’s drawer·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

324 PDF

High fliers·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

324 PDF

Getting even·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

324 PDF

Encore·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

324 PDF

Fortunate that he returned·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Editor’s drawer

324 PDF

Editor’s drawer·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Get access to 165 years of
Harper’s for only $45.99

United States Canada

THE CURRENT ISSUE

January 2017

The Monument Wars

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

The Trouble with Defectors

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Over the River

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

House Hunters Transnational

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

The Lords of Lambeau

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

A Window To The World

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

view Table Content

FEATURED ON HARPERS.ORG

Post
Illustration (detail) by Lincoln Agnew
Article
Over the River·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

“Big, fat zero, unfortunately,” Degen said, making a 0 with her fingers. The last doctor who provided abortions in Rapid City retired in 1986, three years before Ashley was born.

The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

It would be too difficult to attend school as a single mother of two, Ashley knew. She had made an appointment for three weeks from now at the nearest abortion clinic, in Billings, Montana, 318 miles away. But just a week and a half ago, her husband had said he wanted to get back together and offered to raise the child as his own. Was it a sign that she was meant to continue the pregnancy? As a rule, Ashley approached her problems with resolve. She was capable and tough; she liked shooting guns and lifting weights. She kept track of her stats and checked off her goals as she achieved them one by one. Yet the dilemma before her had shaken her confidence. She leaned back and turned to watch the ultrasound screen. The black-and-white image danced. A sharp, fast thumping emerged from the machine. As Degen removed the wand, Ashley wiped the corner of her eye.

Photograph (detail) by Brian Frank
Article
A Window To The World·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

“Big, fat zero, unfortunately,” Degen said, making a 0 with her fingers. The last doctor who provided abortions in Rapid City retired in 1986, three years before Ashley was born.

The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

It would be too difficult to attend school as a single mother of two, Ashley knew. She had made an appointment for three weeks from now at the nearest abortion clinic, in Billings, Montana, 318 miles away. But just a week and a half ago, her husband had said he wanted to get back together and offered to raise the child as his own. Was it a sign that she was meant to continue the pregnancy? As a rule, Ashley approached her problems with resolve. She was capable and tough; she liked shooting guns and lifting weights. She kept track of her stats and checked off her goals as she achieved them one by one. Yet the dilemma before her had shaken her confidence. She leaned back and turned to watch the ultrasound screen. The black-and-white image danced. A sharp, fast thumping emerged from the machine. As Degen removed the wand, Ashley wiped the corner of her eye.

Artwork by Imre Kinszki © Imre Kinszki Estate
Article
The Lords of Lambeau·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Ashley arrived for her prenatal appointment at Black Hills Obstetrics and Gynecology, in Rapid City, South Dakota, wearing a black zip-up hoodie and Converse sneakers.1 To explain her absence from work that morning — a Tuesday in April 2015 — she had told a co-worker that she was having “female issues.” She was twenty-five years old and eight weeks pregnant. She had been separated from her husband, with whom she had a five-year-old son, for the better part of a year. The guy who’d gotten her pregnant was someone she’d met at the gym, and he’d made it abundantly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. Ashley found herself hoping that the doctor would discover some kind of fetal defect, so that her decision would be easier. She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. “Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.”

In the exam room, she perched on the table with her feet crossed at the ankles, her blond hair brushing the back of her pink hospital gown. “I don’t know what’s available for me here,” she told her doctor, Katherine Degen, who sat facing her on a stool. “I figured nothing.”

 Some names and identifying details have been changed. 

“Big, fat zero, unfortunately,” Degen said, making a 0 with her fingers. The last doctor who provided abortions in Rapid City retired in 1986, three years before Ashley was born.

The baby was due in November, when Ashley, who was a nurse, hoped to be enrolled in a graduate program to become a nurse practitioner. Getting pregnant as a teenager had forced her to put that dream on hold, but she had thought that she was finally ready; she had even submitted her application shortly before the March 15 deadline. For the first time in her adult life, Ashley felt as if her plans were coming together. Then she missed her period.

It would be too difficult to attend school as a single mother of two, Ashley knew. She had made an appointment for three weeks from now at the nearest abortion clinic, in Billings, Montana, 318 miles away. But just a week and a half ago, her husband had said he wanted to get back together and offered to raise the child as his own. Was it a sign that she was meant to continue the pregnancy? As a rule, Ashley approached her problems with resolve. She was capable and tough; she liked shooting guns and lifting weights. She kept track of her stats and checked off her goals as she achieved them one by one. Yet the dilemma before her had shaken her confidence. She leaned back and turned to watch the ultrasound screen. The black-and-white image danced. A sharp, fast thumping emerged from the machine. As Degen removed the wand, Ashley wiped the corner of her eye.

Photograph (detail) by Balazs Gardi
Article
With Child·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

"She glanced across the waiting room at a television playing a birth-control ad and laughed darkly. 'Jesus, Lord, it would be so nice if someone just pushed me down a flight of stairs.'"
Photograph (detail) by Lara Shipley

Months after Martin Luther King Jr. publicly called the U.S. the “world’s greatest purveyor of violence ‚” that he was killed:

2

Temporary, self-absorbed sadness makes people spend money extravagantly.

In Colombia, U.N. delegates sent to serve as impartial observers of the peace process aimed at ending the half-century-long war between the FARC and the Colombian government were chastised after they were filmed dancing and getting drunk with FARC fighters at a New Year’s Eve party.

Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!

HARPER’S FINEST

Who Goes Nazi?

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

By

"It is an interesting and somewhat macabre parlor game to play at a large gathering of one’s acquaintances: to speculate who in a showdown would go Nazi. By now, I think I know. I have gone through the experience many times—in Germany, in Austria, and in France. I have come to know the types: the born Nazis, the Nazis whom democracy itself has created, the certain-to-be fellow-travelers. And I also know those who never, under any conceivable circumstances, would become Nazis."

Subscribe Today