The week that I was reading Miranda July’s debut novel The First Bad Man, I spent a lot of time in airports, where all the newsstands were emblazoned with the new issue of Rolling Stone, featuring on its cover the rapper Nicki Minaj. The cover photo is confrontational: In the top half, Minaj stares out with IDGAF matter-of-factness; the bottom half of the image is dominated by Minaj’s magnificent breasts, just barely made modest, if hardly contained, by white fabric strips of tank top. Inside the magazine, Minaj talks about the struggle to figure out how to funnel her personal experiences into her work in a world in which “you gotta watch everything you say—people find an issue with every fucking thing.” Continue reading at 'Slate'
[ Slate | 2015-01-07 00:00:00 UTC ]