Letter from the Editors

Dear Readers,

Many of the pieces in this volume focus on the power of language—whether in its written or spoken form. From H.R. Spencer’s poem “The Grammar of War” to Dewaine Farria’s essay “Speaking as a Veteran” to Bänoo Zan’s translation “Silent Language” to Glory Duruem’s short story “Our Unspoken Country,” which emphasizes the potency of things not said.

As writers ourselves, we certainly appreciate pieces that highlight the muscle of words, specifically how they can give shape to an ostensibly indescribable experience or help us discern and engage with convoluted realities. Of the many invaluable capabilities language possesses, its ability to help others glimpse, or even connect to, another person’s elusive experience or tangled world is possibly its greatest.

Few other arenas spotlight this ability like those related to the consequences of war and geopolitical violence. These consequences can be as ineffable as they are contradicted. From a death by friendly fire to a family fleeing the only home they’ve known to a child losing a leg due to a forgotten landmine—language, especially that which is well-crafted, has the ability to help us see the outlines and details of these oversized and often unbelievable realities.

And why is it important for us to see these outlines, these details? The most glaring answer is that it enables us to become more aware of these experiences and realities and, hopefully, more affected by them.

Or as Sayani De writes in “In the Same Tongue”: “Because stories need to be told for the larger collective, for the personal in larger histories, so that they can help to remember, resist, and transform.”

Sincerely,
The Editors

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