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The Strange Story of the World

Chigozie Obioma

‘Mama leaving home with my brother Folu was the last straw, the final stage in the process of Papa’s descent into that great darkness.’ New fiction from Chigozie Obioma.

Office of Lost Moments

Antonio Muñoz Molina

‘I walk, or I ride the subway. All my worries and obsessions are dissolved in ceaseless observation.’ Translated from the Spanish by Guillermo Bleichmar.

Grief’s Garden

Caroline Albertine Minor

‘I imagined his journey out of the coma as an increasingly painful ascent through dark water.’ Translated from the Danish by Caroline Waight.

Homeland

Walter Kempowski

‘I was suckled by Mother Earth, he would reflect on occasion, and he would stretch, feeling new strength in his veins.’

Not the Foggiest Notion

Jung Young Moon

‘It didn’t matter to me what we would be doing or where. It didn’t matter to me in the least.’ Jung Young Moon, translated from the Korean by Bruce and Ju-Chan Fulton.

The Cheffe

Marie NDiaye

‘She was proud, but there was no vanity in her pride.’

In the Cut

Susanna Moore

An excerpt from In the Cut, by Susanna Moore

The Billionaire Comes To Supper

Hanif Kureishi

A new short story from Hanif Kureishi.

Facsimiles

Linda Mannheim

‘There is nothing where the Towers should be but smoke. There are no buildings.’

Careless

Hiroko Oyamada

‘As I lay on the mattress, the white toe pads of the gecko floated up before me, against the vastness of the blue-black night. Rather than a presence, it seemed to me more like a trace, a barely discernible odour that flooded in on the air.’

Simon

Daniel J. O’Malley

‘When we pulled up at the house, Simon was there waiting, on the porch.’ New fiction by Daniel J. O’Malley

The Last Rite of the Body

Sophie Mackintosh

‘My ex-boyfriend dies, and we all gather to put our hands into his body.’ New fiction from Sophie Mackintosh.

The Spread

Ben Lerner

‘He began to feel less like he was delivering a speech and more like a speech was delivering him.’

Read an extract from Ben Lerner’s latest novel, The Topeka School.

Innards

Magogodi oaMphela Makhene

‘To pick the right heart, the old man said, you had to look for depth in the ruby, to prize a raw intensity of colour and a bright gold fat blanketing the angry muscle.’