Issue 170 | The Sun Magazine

January 1990

Readers Write

The Telephone

Anna Karenina, the Peace Corps, long-distance rates

By Our Readers
Sy Safransky's Notebook

January 1990

Letter By Letter

Words become sentences in spite of themselves, as moments become a life.

By Sy Safransky


A child’s trust has the stubbornest roots: it takes far more digging than you would expect to pull out every little piece.

Deborah Moggach

The Sun Interview

The Ethics Of Photography

An Interview With John Rosenthal

It’s hard not to see that a photograph is an act of aggression, no matter who is taking it. You’re stopping people from the flow of their lives, you’re cropping them from the space in which they live and have their being, you’re juxtaposing them with something that they didn’t know they were next to.

By Michael Read
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

Notes Toward A Journalism Of Consciousness

I was slowly beginning to question the whole purpose of identifying and eliminating “bad guys” from positions of power or influence, a purpose which seemed to be the end-all of investigative journalism. I wanted to know what made guys bad, and journalism seemed to have no means for investigating that.

By D. Patrick Miller
Essays, Memoirs, & True Stories

The Park This Week

“This must be the utmost high point in the history of Tompkins Square Park,” I told Jim Brodie, coming back from a poetry reading three weeks ago.

By Sparrow

Rose And Esther

Rose wore a hat with a feather, and gloves. Oh, she looked smart. Esther was proud to be with her. Rose said she’d called for a taxi, and they were to go downstairs to wait. Out they marched.

By Myra Epping


“I’m going to do you to death,” he said. “How about that. Not because you’re pretty, either, because you’re not, but because you can’t stop me. How about that.”

By Linda Daniels


What magnificent creatures they are, these friends who populate the complex ecology of the life I share with Julia. Refreshed by their presence, confirmed by their affection, we rejoice in the sight and the sound of them.

By Robert Ebisch