The Blade Artist by Irvine Welsh
The opening pages of The Blade Artist read like the antithetical yoking of a delicate and diaphanous Stephen Daedalus-like epiphany…
Two Poems by Sean Borodale
Response to Finding a Fossil at Writhlington Coal Batches: A Fossil (a Fern) on Writhlington Batches Re-Take (Pt.II) Time not…
Coming Thunder by James McAskill
When we stole the eggs from the barn that June you said we held life in our hands. Untrue I…
Eros and Asbo by Miles Burrows
As a man under a restraining order Still follows his ex about from day to day I stalk your shadow…
The Easter Rising by Frank Armstrong
The one hundredth anniversary of the 1916 Easter Rising will hardly register in most London Magazine readers’ minds, but for…
Onion Music by Mark Fiddes
I grow lighter for you with each striptease from skin to skin leaving a glimmering bulb a milk light by…
Mothering Sunday by Graham Swift
… And could she disentangle it, the stuff she’d seen in her mind’s eye, from the actual stuff of her…
What is Not Yours is Not Yours by Helen Oyeyemi
In a museful snippet-cum-travelogue published by Lenny Letter earlier this month, Helen Oyeyemi detailed the auto-didacticism that characterized her first…
Dog Run Moon by Callan Wink
Callan Wink’s debut collection of stories stands as a promising start to a fine literary career. Some of the stories…
Social Contract by Rachel Willems
The politeness, not leaving any butter in the jam, or jam in the butter, or shoes in the hall. Not…
The High Mountains of Portugal by Yann Martel
The High Mountains of Portugal is not a traditional novel but instead a set of three interconnected tales that take…
A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing | The Young Vic
Aoife Duffin reprises her one-woman performance for the production’s London début. In Annie Ryan’s adaptation of Eimear McBride’s 2013 novel,…
The Catch by Fiona Sampson
The cover image of Fiona Sampson’s seventh collection is bright and strange. Taken from photographer Charles Frèger’s Wilder Mann series…
Caries by Fiona Sampson
Little hole little well of dark staining the lacquer of my tooth little confessor coming close and coming close why…
The Noise of Time by Julian Barnes
In keeping with the current vogue for entwining fact and fiction, Julian Barnes’s latest novel is a fictionalised account of…
My London by Tristram Fane Saunders
Home is a box on Coppermill Lane, caught in the crosshairs of Walthamstow High Street and Blackhorse Road. It’s a…
Gold Fame Citrus by Claire Vaye Watkins
The American West has always been home to grifters and thieves, dreamers and doers. It has been a destination for…
Shylock is My Name by Howard Jacobson
Shylock is My Name by Howard Jacobson To mark the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, Hogarth Shakespeare has commissioned a…
Human Acts by Han Kang
Buried in the middle of Han Kang’s Human Acts is a play that, like Kang’s book, dramatises the democratic uprisings…
Several Deer by Adam Crothers
Several Deer by Adam Crothers On the first page of Several Deer, the debut collection from the Northern Irish poet…
This Living and Immortal Thing by Austin Duffy
This Living and Immortal Thing by Austin Duffy The somewhat neo-Yeatsian, almost mawkish-sounding title chosen for Austin Duffy’s first novel is…
We Wait for Poets by Manash Bhattacharjee
[In solidarity with Palestinian poet, Ashraf Fayadh] prophets have retired so do not wait for yours to come to you…
Public Library by Ali Smith
It seems somehow wrong that I now ‘own’ my copy of Public Library, Ali Smith’s fifth collection of short stories.…
‘hypnotic delight’: Macbeth at the Young Vic
Three lunatic dollies jerk and prance in dub-step; they suck their fingers (or are they Raspberry Mivvis?), they entice and…
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