‘Papa! what’s money?’
Paul Dombey, Dombey and Son, Charles Dickens


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‘Despite money's protean nature, however, a lot of people persist in believing that it should stay much the same and are dismayed when it doesn't.’
‘Papa! what’s money?’
Paul Dombey, Dombey and Son, Charles Dickens
Sign in to Granta.com.
‘The slutty ingenuity of vegetables when it comes to desire and reproductive methods is a marvel.’
Rebecca May Johnson negotiates allotment culture.
‘Globalisation is incomplete: money can go anywhere, but laws cannot.’
Oliver Bullough on one of Britain’s most contested outposts: the British Virgin Islands.
‘You discover during your very first lessons that the problem of singing better involves overcoming many other problems you had not ever imagined.’
A new story from Lydia Davis.
‘She began to count; it was easier this way, counting, because she would not have to remember how she felt.’
An excerpt from Ukamaka Olisakwe’s Ogadinma.
‘Like any desert, I learn myself by what’s desired of me—
and I am demoned by those desires.’
From Postcolonial Love Poem by Natalie Diaz.
Kevin Jackson's childhood ambition was to be a vampire but instead he became the last living polymath. His colossal expertise ranges from Seneca to Sugababes, with a special interest in the occult, Ruskin, take-away food, Dante's Inferno and the moose. He is the author of numerous books on numerous subjects, including Fast: Feasting on the Streets of London (Portobello 2006), and reviews regularly for the Sunday Times.
More about the author →‘I know that I can trust you, and that death is silent. It’s never the loud things that kill us, the things that make us vomit and scream and cry. Those things are just looking for attention.’
‘As a child, my grandmother brushed her teeth every day with radioactive toothpaste.’
‘The new law was technical and complicated, but created something genuinely new: the international business company, a hyper-deregulated shell corporation.’
Oliver Bullough investigates the history of shell companies in the British Virgin Islands.
‘My hands are cupped around the names written on the tablets of stone.’
Two women working shifts in a train station make a connection in this short story translated from the German by Katy Derbyshire.
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