Harper’s Finest

Oo Dharma Nanda, Harper’s Magazine, October 1902

Harper's Finest — June 30, 2014, 11:00 am

Mary McCarthy’s “Artists in Uniform” (1953)

“He actually said these awful things. But the story is McCarthy’s arrangement of the colonel’s utterance of the words and of her changing perception of their meaning.”

From Artists in Uniform, Harper’s Magazine, March 1953

Harper's Finest — April 11, 2014, 5:13 pm

Dan Halpern’s “Citizen Walmart” (2012)

The retail giant’s unlikely romance with small farmers

Photograph by Thomas Allen

Harper's Finest — January 20, 2014, 8:00 am

Richard Hofstadter’s “The Paranoid Style in American Politics” (1964)

“American politics has often been an arena for angry minds.”

Harper's Magazine cover detail, November 1964

Harper's Finest — December 8, 2013, 11:48 am

Breyten Breytenbach’s “Mandela’s Smile” (2008)

Notes on South Africa’s failed revolution

African National Congress supporter with election placard © AP Photo/Lynne Sladky

Harper's Finest — October 10, 2013, 12:15 pm

Alice Munro’s “Train” (2012)

Our warmest congratulations to Alice Munro, winner of the 2013 Nobel Prize for Literature. 

Illustration by Raymond Verdaguer

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

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Black Like Who?·

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I first heard the name Barack Obama in the spring of 2004, while visiting my mother in Chicago. As we sat around the kitchen table early one spring morning, I noticed a handsome studio portrait among the pictures, lists, cards, and other totems of family life fastened to the refrigerator door. “Who’s the guy with the ears?” I asked, assuming he was some distant relative or family friend I didn’t know or else had forgotten. “Barack Obama,” she answered with a broad smile. “He’s running for Senate, but he’s going to be the first black president.”

Photograph © Jon Lowenstein/NOOR

Acres of mirrors in Donald Trump’s Taj Mahal casino in Atlantic City:

10

A bee and a butterfly were observed drinking the tears of a crocodilian.

Greece evacuated 72,000 people from the town of Thessaloniki while an undetonated World War II–era bomb was excavated from beneath a gas station.

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"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."

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