‘You spend your life swallowing insults.’
I had never heard of the little Tunisian town of Sidi Bouzid. And yet, that’s where it all began. With an ordinary incident, one that happens frequently, but so frequently that it finally started something unstoppable.
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‘Then the wolves began to howl. After that, it was winter.’
A story by Angela Carter from Granta 3: The End of the English Novel.
‘If our fear was a landscape, it would be a prairie, a great plain.’
An essay by Cal Flyn from Granta 153: Second Nature.
‘It had not been dead for long. In fact, she had not checked that it was dead at all.’
A story set in rural Wales, by Elizabeth O’Connor.
‘All of it is wolf country; nowhere is a wolf to be seen’
An essay by Adam Nicolson from Granta 128: American Wild.
‘he is Bête du Gévaudan / killer-wolf and loup-garou’
Two poems by Pascale Petit.
‘He inspected the chest where the snakes slept. There was the viper, quiet, in a deep sleep.’
‘What was she ushering in and what was a grand program for which she was simply helpless agent?’
An excerpt from Search History by Eugene Lim.
‘It seems to be more than he can cope with.’
An excerpt from Ulitskaya’s newly translated novel Just the Plague.
‘My brother and I hurried through sloppy postures of praise, quiet as the light pooling around us.’
A new poem by Kaveh Akbar.
Three short stories by Diane Williams.
‘Things that felt like cold stones began to be piled around her ankles. Lemon halves.’
