‘Please, I beg you. If I do not buy lederhosen now, I will never buy lederhosen.’
‘Mother dumped my father,’ a friend of my wife was saying one day, ‘all because of a pair of shorts.’
I had to ask. ‘A pair of shorts?’
‘I know it sounds strange,’ she said, ‘because it is a strange story.’
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‘The anglophone world, we have to infer, has run out of words for its own feelings.’
Daisy Hildyard on the wisdom of scarecrows.
‘What is the read receipt for?’
Lillian Fishman on texting, power and the ethics of leaving a friend on read.
‘Like pretty much everyone who uses the internet, I have seen many terrible things that I did not search for and that I cannot unsee.’
Rosanna McLaughlin on what the internet thinks she wants.
‘I have a pathological addiction to the internet, which I indulge with the excuse of making art. It rarely translates to anything good and mostly leaves me overstimulated and afraid.’
Paul Dalla Rosa on excess and the internet.
‘rumors of bees on speedwell, / no oxidative stress just / effortless pollination’
Two poems by Sylvia Legris.
‘That was the setup for the review I wrote about this imaginary record.’ Translated from the Japanese by Philip Gabriel.
‘What I’m talking about is a different sea, and different mountains.’ Haruki Murakami walks to his hometown after the Great Hanshin earthquake of 1995.
‘I looked up at the sky. A few grey cotton chunks of cloud hung there, motionless.’
‘Everything had gone well for her until her father died of cancer. Everything—without exception.’
A short story by Haruki Murakami, translated by Jay Rubin.
‘I think I stayed with the text for as long as I needed to give meaning to my grief, crying not in Johanna’s absence but with her.’
Sigrid Rausing on transcribing, translating and editing Johanna Ekström’s final notebooks.
‘Question: is romance just a father who never carried you to bed carrying you, at last, to bed?’
