Sunday Reading Series at Hungry Brain

by Donald G. Evans

Here’s what I want from a literary reading series. I want it to be in an interesting place—give me an excuse to experience my idealized version of Chicago, where you get to spend time in spots that brim with atmosphere and teem with interesting people. I want it to include voices worthy of a stage—elite writers, sure, but also young or not so young writers who’ve invested in their craft and produced worthwhile material, even if their best is yet to come. I want there to be a connection between readers and audience—featured performers should indulge their audience rather than their egos, or at least veer in that direction. I want an emcee or host both knowledgeable and charming—somebody who clearly enjoys this kind of thing and is equipped to help the audience enjoy it, too. I want never to feel trapped—too many readers or overly long sets make me feel pinned to my chair. I want a social element—time to catch up with old friends, meet new ones, maybe have a drink.  

Sunday Reading Series at Hungry Brain checks all my boxes. If you haven’t been, go. Simone Muench and Kenyatta Rogers organize and moderate this regular event, which is as much party as it is program. It was that way on a late July Sunday that coincided with the 18^th Annual Roscoe Village Burger Fest, which was alive with music and patties just up the block on Belmont Avenue. (When I arrived at Hungry Brain, recognizable pop music was blaring from the speakers of a Fleetwood Mac tribute band; when I left, I was greeted with songs coming from a Dave Matthews tribute band).

Simone and Kenyatta immerse themselves organically in our literary life, as accomplished writers, teachers, institution builders, and supporters of their many friends. While both are smart and funny, and take their roles seriously, they bring different personalities to the stage. Simone is high energy, brash, while Kenyatta is respectful, self-effacing. Their gift to the audience is that they bring their true selves to the stage, and their true selves are likeable, smart, interesting, empathetic, and a lot of fun. They curate the readers expertly, showcasing a range of talented writers mostly (but not entirely) from Chicago.

On this night, the Sunday Reading Series featured three gifted authors who’ve willingly—even relentlessly—given over the spotlight to others in the literary community. Rita Dragonette spent 30 years lifting up others as a public relations executive, and now hosts salons in her home to spotlight authors. She also supports a wide range of other literary organizations, including the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame. She read a passage from her as-yet unpublished novel, Last Sunset in San Miguel, “an homage to The Sun Also Rises about expats chasing their last dream in San Miguel de Allende, a World War II novel based upon her interest in the impact of war on and through women, and a memoir in essays.” Rita came to writing late in life, but diligently works at her material, leaning not only on her own instincts but an expansive support system she has in part constructed. Rita’s second novel, years in the making, follows her 2018 debut, The Fourteenth of September. Rita read a well-rendered, atmospheric passage set at a bullfight, in which the previously uninitiated narrator experiences the raw violence of the spectacle. She read,

We exited just as the body of the last bull, my bull, was dragged by a chain then hooked up to a truck hoist and raised high, his underside obscenely exposed.

“They say the meat goes to the poor,” Rob said, as if that excused it. I wondered if my bull’s dying rage would make the meat taste sharp or sour, and if the poor would notice or care.

Sylvia pulled me forward. “This does not matter,” she said. “You have seen la querencia.”

“La querencia,” I repeated. “I wonder if it’s fair, allowing the bull to feel he has a chance for a different ending.”

“No, No. It is a sweet time,” she said. “It is the best time of his life. You could see he felt the power.”

“Yes,” I said. “He didn’t know it was only for a moment.”

Andrea Change, as current executive director and past president of Guild Literary Complex, cultivates readings, programs and prizes for a dazzlingly diverse range of authors. She, like Rita and Mary, gets out to events around town--North Side, South Side, suburbs, I run into her all over. Andrea persistently develops new ideas to improve our literary landscape, to give others—often those without platforms—opportunity. She read five poems: “I Am Blood,” “Lesson,” “Swallow,” “A Stranger’s Eyes,” and “Notes from a Siren’s Diary.” These were all good, unpublished poems, some of which will be included in a forthcoming book-length collection. Andrea often finds herself behind the microphone as she praises the work of other authors, or facilitates discussion about their work, or introduces a program. Maybe because Andrea plays these supporting roles, she doesn’t as often get shoulder tapped to highlight her own literary work. Andrea The Featured Reader exuded a large personality and deep devotion to her own diligently crafted poetry. She broke up the crowd and elicited a lot of head nods when she said something to the effect that, “Sometimes you just love something so much because…you wrote it.” Her impeccable comic timing relieved the gravity of more poignant moments, like her reading of “A Stranger’s Eyes,” a poem that explores the aftermath of hearing news of her father’s death.

She read,

I was the oldest

the oldest child who wasn’t supposed to cry

I-57 Exit ramp number 27

Having no idea how I got here

Since there were days I cried the whole way

Mary Hawley is another great writer who’s been omnipresent in Chicago's cultural community for decades, including as a volunteer interpreter for the National Immigrant Justice Center. She’s supported a large number of literary organizations in a large variety of ways, and tirelessly shows up for her fellow writers.

Mary read the poems, "What Yawns," “The Letdown,” “To Dwell for a Time,” “Vacation, Genesis,” and “trees.” Mary’s talent as a translator, and world citizen, came across in her seamless language switching, the way her settings moved across continents, and her themes moved across cultures. The epigraph of “Trees” is a line from Uruguayan poet Silvia Goldman: “recuerdo la separación de sus árboles” (“I remember the separation of its trees”). Mary said the poem is part of a collaborative poetry project with Goldman, and was written after “observing on my daily walks that if you didn’t know what trees were, they would seem like different creatures in every season, even frightening at times, and then God just kind of popped in there in a twist I wasn’t expecting.” Her flash fiction piece “The Eye” was inspired by Colombian journalist María F. Fitzgerald and her 2021 reporting on the political protests in her country. Mary met the journalist last year. That piece, like much of Mary’s work, features exquisite pacing, precise use of language, and offers a penetrating glimpse into a difficult theme. She read, “She sees it, the rubber bullet fired at close range, hitting the boy in the eye, the blood covering his glistening face like a curtain. Her eye.”

Like all the Sunday Reading Series shows I’ve attended, the hosts, readers, and audience stuck around a while—most of us, anyway. Hungry Brain is a great little place. It’s a tight but comfortable room with a nice bar and a spacious patio out back. The décor is darkish except for some holiday lights, the kind of place people instinctually want to call, in an admiring way, a dive. It’s not that—it can’t be on that stretch of Belmont, in a neighborhood that has become expensive enough to drive away anything resembling a shot-and-a-beer place. Hungry Brain has personality—understated but interesting ambiance, bartenders you want to get to know, affordable enough drink options, and comfortable seating. Like other worthwhile Chicago bars, Hungry Brain is a must-return place because it attracts an interesting crowd, sometimes for its live music and sometimes for its literary citizens. The good will on Sunday Reading Series nights is abundant, and it’s refreshing to spend a little time among people all seemingly enjoying and rooting for each other.

Donald G. Evans is the author of a novel and story collection, as well as the editor of two anthologies of Chicago literature, most recently Wherever I’m At: An Anthology of Chicago Poetry. He is the Founding Executive Director of the Chicago Literary Hall of Fame.