“If my life could be contained in a word,” Edgar tells us, “it would be this one: accidents.” The Miracle Life of Edgar Mint, Brady Udall’s first novel, is filled with moments taken as either cruel jokes or benevolent miracles. From age seven, when he survives getting run over by a mail truck and is promptly abandoned by his mother, Edgar is shipped from Arizona to Pennsylvania and several states in between, shuttled from distant relatives to foster programs to reservation schools. His more permanent stay occurs when he is put into placement care in Richland, Utah with a Mormon family, and it is soon easy to see that, despite their vast differences, the family seems made for him. Half-Indian and half-white, unable to write since his accident and the constant victim of harassment and assault, it is not difficult ot distinguish a connection between Edgar and a family jeered at for being “inbred piece[s] of dirt.” Utah has long been typecast as a haven for fanatics and their multiple wives, but Udall bypasses these stereotypes for a tender portrait that avoids both simplifying and sugarcoating. Not one for overwrought descriptions, encompassing Richland winter as “gray and flat” with snow of “deliberate slowness,” Udall approaches family and faith through Edgar’s eyes, and gives a narrative that is plain spoken and poignant. Initially embracing conversion, he sees his baptism as “a huge choice in a world that, for me, had no real choices at all.” And while Mint takes some cues from Dickens’ Great Expectations, there are no characters over-styled for literary purposes, no Havishams or Magwitches. The Madsen family who accepts Edgar is dysfunctional in the tenderest of ways, that wrought by early tragedy, and the traditions of their prim, sepia-cast ancestors and increasingly rebellious, secularized children is a multi-layered conflict as absorbing as Udall’s earlier short stories. When Edgar goes on the final stage of his journey, it is a comparatively rushed affair. His time in Richland however, is like the crib foster father Clay once made of “the oak planks of the same covered wagon that brought the family so far,” beautifully crafted and the result of much patience.

- Melanie Jones

If you were in Dodge Hall last Thursday night (1/29) around nine PM, “you’re probably a nerd…” and so began the MC as he kicked off an evening of literary works written by members of the Columbia University community. Attempting to reinvent itself in honor of its 60^th year anniversary, Quarto, the Literary Magazine of the Undergraduate Creative Program, hosted an “S & M” – Submit and Mingle – party. Between fifty and eighty students showed up to eat tasty homemade cookies and listen to others read their own works of fiction, non-fiction, and poetry. Twelve students competed for a coveted spot in Quarto’s 60^th anniversary edition – yet the atmosphere was anything but competitive.

The entrance to the event was flanked by Quarto committee members, laughing and smiling with palpable excitement, urging attendees to try the cupcakes or to sign-up to read. The dimmed room was soon packed with bodies and; although more and more chairs were brought in, standing quickly became the only option for latecomers to the popular event. The focus of the room was the “stage” – actual spotlights shone on a set of stairs surrounded by Grecian-like plastic busts, well-worn easels, and large signs displaying “Q” for Quarto. Casey Black, the affable MC of the event, maintained the relaxed environment by repeatedly thanking the audience for attending a literary event on what is notoriously a party night. The Quarto event was certainly a party – a “night of mayhem” as its Facebook Event declared – but of a very distinctive kind.

Seven young women and five men read pieces addressing sex, their life experiences, sex, their dreams, sex, social class, and even the concept of art. With a time limit of roughly 3-5 minutes a piece, the readings were short and sweet; flowing into one another with a casual ease. Only load clapping disrupted the tranquil atmosphere – and every reader truly received enthusiastic applause. Clearly captivated, audience members used crayons to scribble down thoughts; making note of who they wanted to vote for later. Maintaining the S & M theme of the evening, each audience member received a Skittle or M&M with which to vote for their favorite piece. Waiting in line, many murmured about what was more difficult: deciding who to vote for or resisting the urge to eat their ballots?

Three male students read pieces in the last, non-competitive portion of the evening as the votes were tallied. The winning piece was a poem by Dalton LaBarge, CC ’12, called “Take Every Breakfast Club…” (an excerpt from a title so long that it was abbreviated by everyone but LaBarge himself). Yet, despite the competition aspect of the evening, the emphasis remained on the experience itself. The Quarto staff continually requested for everyone “to submit their poems, prose, angry break-up letters, and anything else to Quarto by G-day, February 2.” Ultimately, the goal of the evening was not the literary competition, but the literary experience. One of the 12 participants and many audience members, Anna Ziering, BC ’11, commented that she was “really impressed by the attendance, ambience, and the talent.” There is certainly a reason why Quarto is still lively and beloved after 60 years.