Kenyon Review logo

Ruth Whitman

Winter 1965

Her Delirium

By Ruth Whitman

The old lady (a child of seven) cried in her sleep stop beating me! Zu hilfe! Zu hilfe! In the dark cellar her sons had murdered… And the policeman was […]

Winter 1965

The Marriage Wig

By Ruth Whitman

If you’re going to marry, make sure you first know whom you’re going to divorce. —Yiddish Proverb 1. The Mishnah says I blind you with my hair, that when I […]