‘It was eating oysters, four hundred of the bivalve sons-of-bitches, that finally killed my father, in a theatre-bar off St Martin's Lane.‘
It was eating oysters, four hundred of the bivalve sons-of-bitches, that finally killed my father, in a theatre-bar off St Martin’s Lane. But it was advertising that was truly responsible: by endorsing a new triple-headed, retractable, swivel-headed, disposable electric razor, the old man got more…
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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.
‘Every time I tried to write more, it turned out to be a fruitless endeavor – I felt like I was trapped in a sealed room with no windows.’
Fiction by Yu Hua, translated by Michael Berry.
‘How do you love a monster when they are no longer monstrous?’
New fiction by Diana Evans.
‘For you, an image makes sight sacrosanct. It wasn’t always like that.’
Guy Gunaratne introduces photography by Kalpesh Lathigra.
‘One did not have high hopes for Gettysburg. Nor for Pennsylvania in general. Having grown up in Indiana, Diana felt she’d earned her condescension.’
Fiction by Jessi Jezewska Stevens.
‘I can’t help Lentille. Even though she roars. As long as she roars, I won’t be able to work.’
An essay from Urs Mannhart, translated by Christine Müller
‘Imagine that, said Mairéad. A Frenchman and an Englishman squabbling over our turf.’
A linguist and a painter clash in this excerpt from The Colony by Audrey Magee.
