From February, 2015

Apply to the Spring 2015 Editorial Board

The Columbia Review is looking for new members to join its editorial board. Board members meet weekly to discuss submissions to the magazine, and select pieces for publication. Members are also involved in planning and promoting events, raising money, writing for our blog, and more. If you’re a Columbia student who loves discussing literature, The Review is a great way to get involved with literary life on campus. The application can be found below. Upon completing it, please email it to us at TheColumbiaReview@Gmail.com. All applications are due by Thursday, February 26th at 6:00 P.M. Unfortunately, due to volume, we will only be…

Nineveh (Poetry)

  NINEVEH   A sleepless force summoned me to the belly of the whale.   Inside, of many mansions, one was fashioned for my shape.   The whale and I were both brought forth by the hand that cast the lot.   It rose slowly in the air, a thousand days and nights unfolding.   It was a priestly hand before the flock, unmatched in its cunning.   Long before, even as we slept, the fibers and the threads   of our lives, great and small, were brought together, and entwined   with the entrails of dusk ghostly and luminous…

Sign Up For Our Mailing List

Sign up today for the The Columbia Review mailing list to stay up to date on submission deadlines, events, new releases, blog pitches, and more. Joining our mailing list is a great way to stay connected to the broader Columbia Review community. To sign up, send an email to TheColumbiaReview@gmail.com with the subject line “The Columbia Review Mailing List.” In the body of your email, please provide your name, and your affiliation with Columbia University (if any). From there, you’ll receive our newsletters, release announcements, blog pitches, submission calls, and more. The Columbia Review mailing list is also a great way for Columbia Students…

The Morning in the Skin (Fiction)

Brother was up all through the night. He went over the papers one more time and woke me before dawn. He shook as he did when angry, though his look was only tired. Let’s have a last look, he said. We sat the horse together, me up front and brother holding onto my belt. The dew was frozen and her unshod hooves clattered crisply on the ground. The horse was all white, with brown freckles that increased with sunlight and with the years. Sunspots, brother called them. They traced our years, as much as her own. Our coming of age…