Contents

Articles/Essays

The Theology of Desire



A friend who is a soprano once related a story to me of a rime when she was accompanied by a male pianist. They worked together on the piece for some weeks; and finally, when they performed, the ecstatic release, the sense of the flowing together of their spirits, was, in her words, “like making love.” 



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Loose in the Stacks: A Half-Century with the Utah War and Its Legacy



With the Utah War’s sesquicentennial commemoration now underway, it is appropriate to reexamine that campaign’s origins, conduct, significance, and historiography. This article’s purpose is to stimulate such probing. I hope to do so through the story of my own research and conclusions about the war over the past half-century—one-third of the period since President James Buchanan and Governor Brigham Young came into armed conflict during 1857-58.



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Fiction

The Nature of Comets



We found the remains just below the embankment of an antediluvian oxbow. She had been lying there a long time, before the Cayuse and Lewis and Clark and the Grand Coulee Dam and long before…



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Where We Lay Our Scene



Her ticket is at will-call. She needs no help finding their seats, but Tom repeatedly cranes his neck to check the doors at the back of the hall. He likes it when she emerges from…



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Letters to the Editor

Letter to the Editor



Susan Lee Anderson, Appreciation for Frances Menlove
Tom Rogers, An Issue Reflecting Balance
LaVal W. Spencer, Kirk Hagen’s Accomplishment
David O. Tolman, Natural vs. Supernatural
William D. Russell, What Is FARMS Afraid Of?
Mark Ashurst-McGee, Ashurst-McGee Replies to Vogel
Ralph Hansen, A Founder Bows Out



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Personal Voices

My Mission Decision



October 1954. I am age nineteen and in Clark’s Barbershop with Lloyd for his weekly duck’s butt haircut. He’s reading the Salt Lake Tribune and 1 am turning magazine pages. A coupon says, “Play a guitar in six weeks.” I nudge Lloyd, “My convertible needs a guitar player.” 



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Poetry

Borax



The sand that blows along the bed 
of the Amargosa waves and shirrs 
and cleans as well as water. It scours 
the tatters left uneaten by birds, 



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Showshoe Song



flung unsifted from bluest above 
snow casts light on me in sparks 
Behold all ye that kindle fire 
That compass yourselves about with sparks 



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Reviews

Volume Art