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Essays by

S. G. Belknap

 

Lovers in the Hands of a Patient God

It was hard for me to believe, at first, that spiritual debates in the American colonies, say, or the conventions of mass-market storytelling could tell me anything about my love life. But they did. How had I missed it? Probably because what they have to offer is so counterintuitive,and maybe even something of a scandal: that here in America, the Land of the Will, it can be good—very good, crucially important even—not to will.

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The Tragic Diet

Living in the kinds of apartments I do means mice, often. House mice, one of the world’s most successful species—whatever that means—don’t care how much […]

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Love in the Age of the Pickup Artist

I first turned to the pickup artists after losing in love. Or, to be precise, winning—and then losing.

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