This Valentine’s Day, FM charts the course of true literary love—platonic and romantic—across Harvard’s campus and through the ages.
I spent the summer before my senior year of high school walking past the same painting every day. A woman ...
During my first semester of college I constantly talked about New York. I told everyone who would listen about my favorite Indian restaurant, about the Astroturf field behind my high school where we ate lunch (even on 20-degree days), about the East Village community garden where I wiled away hot summer afternoons.
FM sends the weekend at Sigma Chi and in cages in Winthrop Dining Hall. The Harvard social scene has never felt so...classy.
FM firmly believes that every task, even the weighty one of exercising your citizenlyrights by voting in the presidential election, is improved with auditory accompaniment.
Sims: They’re just like us.
Rain was good for Oxford. The endless grassy quads were at their most verdant, and students packed the local pubs to warm their fingers around mugs of hot mulled wine. When the sun came out one mid-afternoon, the wet paving stones glistened. Perfect English weather, I thought with relish when I stepped off the train and into the damp air.
Zadie Smith, author of “White Teeth” and “On Beauty,” visited the Cambridge Public Library last week to read from her new book, “NW.”
A triumphant novillero, or novice bullfighter, raises his sword at the Plaza de Toros Oriente in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Spectators wave handkerchiefs to implore the judges to grant the young man, Hector de Avila of Tenancingo, a severed bull’s ear as a trophy.
Francisco Martinez of San Miguel de Allende faces a young bull, or novillo, during the tercio de muerte (“death third”) of a fight.
Rodrigo Sebastián of Mexico City makes a pass at a bull. Sebastián later received two bull’s ears as trofeos (trophies) in recognition of his valor and grace in the ring.
Francisco Martinez salutes the crowd as he rides out of the bullring on the shoulders of another man. Judges award a bullfighter a salida en hombros (literally “exit on shoulders”) if he performs exceptionally well.
According to legend, El Cordobés once told his sister before a crucial fight, “Tonight, either I’ll buy you a house or I’ll dress you in mourning.
It’s just shy of seven o’clock, and the concert doesn’t start until eight, so Brandon and I take our time along the 72nd Street transverse in Central Park. We follow the same route we took all last summer to our shared office in the basement of the Frick Collection.