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Good Letters

David James DuncanSuffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
…And let my cry come unto Thee.


The Image archive is supported in part by an award from the National Endowment for the Arts.

Written by: Brian Volck

Brian Volck is a pediatrician who received his MFA in creative writing from Seattle Pacific University. His first collection of poetry, Flesh Becomes Word (Dos Madres), was released in 2013, and his memoir, Attending Others: A Doctor’s Education in Bodies and Words, will be published by Cascade in 2016. His essays, poetry, and reviews have appeared in America, The Christian Century, DoubleTake, and Health Affairs.

  • Denise

    I remember Duncan reading aloud on an evening at Whidbey– his essays were breath-taking, dangerous, like he might take wing and fly from the podium. And I do remember the combative tone of these one or two sentences that seemed so unlike the rest of his offerings. I think you have it right– extraneous, unnecessary invective. I remember the palpable sadness about those passages, and the wounded listeners. Did you talk with him about it, afterwards?

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