A. L. Baumgartner
Baumgartner: Ordinary, extra-ordinary

PALACIOS, BOLIVIA — Beneath the breast bone, between the lungs, lies the heart. It is a fist-sized organ, the color of uncooked steak. It was […]

Baumgartner: Friendship, after the storm

I spent the summer in Saint Malo, my friend spent his in Lyon, and we met at the beginning of August in the south of […]

Baumgartner: Our words, our thoughts, collected

When the poet Marie Borroff GRD ’56 was an undergraduate, she studied verse with Norman Maclean, the author of “A River Runs through It.” Sitting […]

Baumgartner: A literary love

Last week, for the first time in several years, I went to church. It was not my parish, or even my denomination, but it was […]

Baumgartner: Don’t hesitate to ask

  It went something like this: we met, we dated, we broke up. I said why don’t we be friends? That summer, he visited me […]

Baumgartner: A gossiper’s defense

On my 13th birthday, my mother told me that men talk about sex in locker rooms. Then she handed me a piece of cake. I […]

Baumgartner: Seriously high standards

Editor’s Note: Post-Modern Love is a new column about relationships and sex at Yale. It will appear each Monday, with A.L. Baumgartner ’10 writing one […]

The Laundress

In the year with no summer, the native women take to their fields in the nude. The missionaries protest and the Christian women are appalled, […]