As soon as I walked in, I knew he wanted to touch it. It was a small lift, just a box on a rope really. You could hear the churning of the wheel high above, and the whole thing creaked as it wound you up through the building.
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Alison Smith on the week she spent with Ursula K. Le Guin.
This surreal tale from Haruki Murakami circles a Charlie Parker album that never existed. Translated from the Japanese by Philip Gabriel.
A monastic community persists after a ‘great chaos and collapse’ in this story by the 2018 Nobel Prize for Literature laureate, Olga Tokarczuk. Translated from the Polish by Jennifer Croft
Two poems from Rebecca Tamás’ collection WITCH.
Summer Brennan on high heels, foot-binding, and our ongoing performances of gender.
‘The year I'm talking about, the year my sister left (or whatever you choose to call it), I was twenty-one and she was seventeen’.
‘It’s easy to forget the power of words in an era ruled by profuse, beautiful and entrancing images.’
‘The emergency cords have been removed from the carriages for some time.’
A new story by Dan Bradley.
‘I wrote in the address bar of my web browser, in spreadsheet cells, in emails I addressed to myself.’ Jem Calder on writing fiction at his day job.
‘I was unfortunate to know a Christianity so tainted by colonialism and racial distrust.’
