NEW RELEASES (28.7.23)

New books — just out of the carton! Click through for your copies now.

Blood and Dirt: Prison labour and the making of New Zealand by Jared Davidson $50
”Picture, for a minute, every artwork of colonial New Zealand you can think of. Now add a chain gang. Hard labour men guarded by other men with guns. Men moving heavy metal. Men picking at the earth. Over and over again. This was the reality of nineteenth-century New Zealand.” Forced labour haunts the streets we walk today and the spaces we take for granted. The unfree work of prisoners has shaped New Zealand's urban centres and rural landscapes and Te Moana-nui-a-Kiwa — the Pacific — in profound and unsettling ways. Yet these stories are largely unknown: a hidden history in plain sight. Blood and Dirt explains, for the first time, the making of New Zealand and its Pacific empire through the prism of prison labour. Jared Davidson asks us to look beyond the walls of our nineteenth- and early twentieth-century prisons to see penal practice as playing an active, central role in the creation of modern New Zealand. A consummate history, illustrated throughout. Fascinating.

Rombo by Esther Kinsky (translated from German by Caroline Schmidt) $28
How does the impact of a disaster remain below the surface of consciousness, altering even the most unexpected things? In May and September 1976, two earthquakes ripped through north-eastern Italy, causing severe damage to the landscape and its population. About a thousand people died under the rubble, tens of thousands were left without shelter, and many ended up leaving their homes in Friuli forever. The displacement of material as a result of the earthquakes was enormous. New terrain was formed that reflects the force of the catastrophe and captures the fundamentals of natural history. But it is far more difficult to find expression for the human trauma, the experience of an abruptly shattered existence. In Rombo, Esther Kinsky’s new novel, seven inhabitants of a remote mountain village talk about their lives, which have been deeply impacted by the earthquake that has left marks they are slowly learning to name. From the shared experience of fear and loss, the threads of individual memory soon unravel and become haunting and moving narratives of a deep trauma. A remarkable piece of work.
”In Esther Kinsky’s new novel, language becomes the highest form of compassion and solidarity – not only with us human beings, but with the whole world, organic, non-organic, speaking out with many mouths and living voices. A miracle of a book; should be shining when it gets dark.” —Maria Stepanova
>>Writing itself anew.
>>Read Thomas’s review of Grove.
>>Read Thomas’s review of River.

The Wonders by Elena Medel (translated from Spanish by Thomas Bunstead and Lizzie Davis) $25
Maria and her granddaughter Alicia have never met. Decades apart, both make the same journey to Madrid in search of work and independence. Maria, scraping together a living as a cleaner and carer, sending money back home for the daughter she hardly knows; Alicia, raised in prosperity until a family tragedy, now trapped in a poorly paid job and a cycle of banal infidelities. Their lives are marked by precarity, and by the haunting sense of how things might have been different. Through a series of arresting vignettes, Elena Medel weaves together a broken family's story, stretching from the last years of Franco's dictatorship to mass feminist protests in contemporary Madrid. Audacious, intimate and shot through with razor-edged lyricism, The Wonders is a revelatory novel about the many ways that lives are shaped by class, history and feminism: about what has changed for working class women, and what has remained stubbornly the same.
The Wonders is a poet's novel, delicate but strong, impressing its images firmly on the imagination.” —Hilary Mantel
”Completely unsentimental and with a harshness that hides the most radiant and painful of scars, The Wonders brings to life several generations of working women: it's a serene and impious novel that puts class, feminism, and the eternal complexity of family ties at the fore.” —Mariana Enriquez
>>Two interlocked spirals.
>>The struggle to determine the course of their own lives.
>>What shapes and defines us?

Ordinary Notes by Christina Sharpe $28
Acutely observed and beautifully written, Sharpe’s Ordinary Notes explores the enduring effects of racism (relevant anywhere), questions about loss, and the shapes of US Black life that emerge in the wake. In a series of 248 notes that gather meaning as we read them, Christina Sharpe skillfully weaves artifacts from the past — public ones alongside others that are poignantly personal — with present realities and possible futures, intricately constructing an immersive portrait of everyday Black existence. The themes and tones that echo through these pages — sometimes about language, beauty, memory; sometimes about history, art, photography, and literature — always attend, with exquisite care, to the ordinary-extraordinary dimensions of Black life. At the heart of Ordinary Notes is the indelible presence of the author's mother, Ida Wright Sharpe. "I learned to see in my mother's house," writes Sharpe. "I learned how not to see in my mother's house . . . My mother gifted me a love of beauty, a love of words." Using these gifts and other ways of seeing, Sharpe steadily summons a chorus of voices and experiences to the page. She practices an aesthetic of ‘beauty as a method’, collects entries from a community of thinkers toward a ‘Dictionary of Untranslatable Blackness’, and rigorously examines sites of memory and memorial. In the process, she forges a new literary form. A beautifully illustrated hardback.
>>Some notes.
>>Slips of the tongue.
>>Notes as form.

Eunuch by Kristina Carlson (translated from Finnish by Mikko Alapuro) $34
Wang Wei has always chosen his words carefully. His unobtrusive presence has seen him through the reign of five emperors, but now, as his own time is running out, he immerses himself in an unbridled account of a life confined at court during the Song dynasty in 12th century China. From the early separation from his parents, sisters, and brother – who did not survive the operation into a eunuch – to the power struggles he has witnessed and endured, Wang Wei examines human relationships with precision and a catching sense of wonder. While rumours are weapons, it is love and its various forms of expression that most fascinate Wang Wei.
”Adeptly using the very particular to get at the achingly universal, Eunuch is a short but striking meditation on difference and belonging. Someone who has always lived in-between will recognise that the stages of dusk are just as real as night and day. Elegant and earthy in turns, evoking whole worlds with deceptively simple words, Carlson’s writing recalls the aphoristic poetry of her narrator’s era.” —Kaisa Saarinen
>>Places I’ve never been.

George: A magpie memoir by Frieda Hughes $37
When Frieda Hughes moved to the depths of the Welsh countryside, she was expecting to take on a few projects: planting a garden, painting and writing her poetry column for the Times. But instead, she found herself rescuing a baby magpie, the sole survivor of a nest destroyed in a storm — and embarking on an obsession that would change the course of her life. As the magpie, George, grows from a shrieking scrap of feathers and bones into an intelligent, unruly companion, Frieda finds herself captivated — and apprehensive of what will happen when the time comes to finally set him free.
”There is an astringent beauty to Frieda Hughes's George. It's one of those books that appears to be about one thing-in this case, hand-rearing the eponymous orphan magpie-whilst being about something altogether more profound: love, loss and how inextricably linked they are. Love comes alive in Hughes' pages as an act of acute attentiveness. Loss lingers in the margins, but George doesn't baulk at the shadows. Instead, this book pulses with a defiant wonder at the living world, as wild and unruly as our feathered hero.'“ —Polly Morland
>>On George.
>>On living life like it matters.
>>On families.

Shadow Worlds: A history of the occult and esoteric in New Zealand by Andrew Paul Wood $50
A vigorous strand of interest in the occult, the spooky and the mysterious hasbeen part of our history since 1840. Shadow Worlds takes a lively look at communicating with spirits, secret ritualistic societies, the supernatural, the New Age — everything from The Golden Dawn and Rosicrucianism to Spiritualism, witchcraft and Radiant Living — and introduces the reader to a cast of fascinating characters who were generally true believers and sometimes con artists. It's a fresh and novel take on the history of a small colonial society that was notquite as ploddingly conformist as we may have imagined.
>>Not hobbits.

Desperate Remedies: Psychiatry and the mysteries of mental illness by Andrew Scull $32
For more than two hundred years, disturbances of reason, cognition and emotion — the sort of things that were once called 'madness' — have been described and treated by the medical profession. Mental illness, it is said, is an illness like any other — a disorder that can be treated by doctors, whose suffering can be eased, and from which patients can return. And yet serious mental illness remains a profound mystery that is in some ways no closer to being solved than it was at the start of the twentieth century. In this provocative exploration of psychiatry, sociologist Andrew Scull traces the history of its attempts to understand and mitigate mental illness — from the age of the asylum and unimaginable surgical and chemical interventions, through the rise and fall of Freud and the talking cure, and on to our own time of drug companies and antidepressants. Through it all, Scull argues, the often vain and rash attempts to come to terms with the enigma of mental disorder have frequently resulted in dire consequences for the patient.
”There are few heroes in this enraging study of a great failing. Fascinating.” —Sebastian Faulks
”Meticulously researched and beautifully written.” —Guardian
”I would recommend this fascinating, alarming and alerting book to anybody. For anyone referred to a psychiatrist it is surely essential.” —Horatio Clare

The Martins by David Foenkinos (translated from French by Sam Taylor) $35
Is it true that every life is the stuff of novels? Or are some people just too ordinary?
This is the question a struggling Parisian writer asks when he challenges himself to write about the first person he sees when he steps outside his apartment. Secretly hoping to meet the beautiful woman who occasionally smokes on his street, he instead sets eyes on octogenarian Madeleine. She's happy to become the subject of his project, but first she needs to put her shopping away. Wondering if his project is doomed to be hopelessly banal, he soon finds himself tangled in the lives of Madeleine's family. Though calm on the surface, the Martins have secrets, troubles and woes, and the writer discovers that the most compelling story is that of an ordinary life. This clever and charming book interrogates the ways in which novels are written, and their relationship to the so-called real world, and assails the perceived schism between the ;literary’ and the ‘mundane’.
”Playing with the rules of autofiction and family comedy, Foenkinos has created a multi-layered novel.” —Le Parisien
>>Trailer.
>>Foenkinos in conversation.

Cobalt Red: How the blood of the Congo powers our lives by Siddharth Kara $55
An unflinching investigation reveals the human rights abuses behind the Congo's cobalt mining operation — and the moral implications that affect us all.
Cobalt Red is the searing, first-ever exposé of the immense toll taken on the people and environment of the Democratic Republic of the Congo by cobalt mining, as told through the testimonies of the Congolese people themselves. Activist and researcher Siddharth Kara has traveled deep into cobalt territory to document the testimonies of the people living, working, and dying for cobalt. To uncover the truth about brutal mining practices, Kara investigated militia-controlled mining areas, traced the supply chain of child-mined cobalt from toxic pit to consumer-facing tech giants, and gathered shocking testimonies of people who endure immense suffering and even die mining cobalt.  Cobalt is an essential component to every lithium-ion rechargeable battery made today, the batteries that power our smartphones, tablets, laptops, and electric vehicles. Roughly 75 percent of the world's supply of cobalt is mined in the Congo, often by peasants and children in sub-human conditions. Billions of people in the world cannot conduct their daily lives without participating in a human rights and environmental catastrophe in the Congo.
>>Unbearable.

Introducing Te Tiriti o Waitangi by Claudia Orange and Jared Davidson $18
In 1840, over 500 Maori leaders put their names to a significant new document: Te Tiriti o Waitangi or the Treaty of Waitangi. Through their signatures, moko or marks they were making an agreement with the British Crown. At stake was the sovereignty of the country, the governance of the land. The history of this agreement is a remarkable one, and ignorance about the centrality of the agreement continues to lead to conflict and prejudice.

Introducing He Whakaputanga by Vincent O’Malley and Jared Davidson $18
He Whakaputanga o te Rangatiratanga o Nu Tireni/The Declaration of Independence of New Zealand was signed by fifty-two rangatira from 1835 to 1839. It was a powerful assertion of mana and rangatiratanga, made after decades of Maori and European encounters that had been steadily expanding — both within Aotearoa New Zealand and elsewhere on the globe as Maori travelled abroad. As rangatira reached out, they also forged new alliances. He Whakaputanga was part of that process, reinforcing ties between northern rangatira and the British Crown that dated back nearly half a century.

Introducing the Women’s Suffrage Petition, 1893 by Barbara Brookes and Jared Davidson $18
In 1893 New Zealand became the first country in the world with universal suffrage: all New Zealand women now had the right to vote. This achievement owed much to an extraordinary document: the 1893 Women’s Suffrage Petition. Over 270 metres long, with the signatures of some 24,000 women (and at least twenty men), the Suffrage Petition represents the culmination of many years of campaigning by suffragists, led by Kate Sheppard, and women throughout the country.

The Mystery at Dunvegan Castle by T.L. Huchu $38
Ropa Moyo is no stranger to magic or mysteries. But she's still stuck in an irksomely unpaid internship. So she's thrilled to attend a magical convention at Dunvegan Castle, on the Isle of Skye, where she'll rub elbows with eminent magicians. For Ropa, it's the perfect opportunity to finally prove her worth. Then a librarian is murdered and a precious scroll stolen. Suddenly, every magician is a suspect, and Ropa and her allies investigate. Trapped in a castle, with suspicions mounting, Ropa must contend with corruption, skullduggery and power plays. Time to ask for a raise? The third in the excellent ‘Edinburgh Nights’ series.
”Tendai's alternative Edinburgh becomes more real and more exciting with every book. An artful combination of magic, history and imagination wrapped up in an engaging story.” —Ben Aaronovitch

Food writing — WHISK: Cookbooks at Volume

With so much of our personal and collective cultures revolving around a dinner plate, our appetite for reading about food (and its place in our lives and in the lives of others) is insatiable.

Essayist, poet, and pie lover Kate Lebo is inspired by twenty-six fruits. She expertly blends the culinary, medical, and personal in The Book of Difficult Fruit. A is for Aronia, M is for Medlar, and Q is for Quince. Claudia Roden describes it as “ A beautiful, fascinating read full of surprises – a real pleasure.”

What did we eat and when did we eat it? Over the ten chapters of Food: The history of taste, food historian covers the history of food from the hunter-gathers and first farmers to the evolution of the restaurant and the contemporary volume of choice from fast food to slow cooking. Want to know the food fashions of the Renaissance, what they ate during the Industrial Revolution, or the ancient diets of Greece and Rome, this is your book.

Ah, honey! Thinking about getting some bees? Read this delightful account of two men who decide to become beekeepers, learning about nature and about themselves in the process. Inspiring Liquid Gold . “A great book. Painstakingly researched, but humorous, sensitive and full of wisdom. I'm on the verge of getting some bees as a consequence of reading the book.” - Chris Stewart, author of Driving Over Lemons

My First Popsicle is as much an ode to food and emotion as it is to life. A collection of essays edited by actor Zosia Mamet. Contributors include David Sedaris, Patti Smith, Jia Tolentino, and Ruth Reichl. The Kirkus review gave it a thumbs up for gifting. “Most of the essays capture an isolated moment in time, making the book perfect for reading in short, leisurely spurts..the book is an appealing reminder of the power of food...A good gift for foodies." -Kirkus

First Catch is a beautifully written appreciation of making a meal. Stand next to Thom Eagle in the kitchen as he muses on the very best way to coax flavour out of an onion (slowly, and with more care than you might expect), or considers the crucial role of salt in the creation of the perfect assembly for early green shoots and leaves. “A one-off, the kind of food book that I believed was no longer being published ... when I reached the last page, I went back to the beginning.” —Bee Wilson, The Times

Bill Buford's Dirt is a vivid, hilarious, intimate account of his five-year odyssey in French cuisine. Never mind that he spoke no French, had no formal training, knew no one in Lyon, and his wife and twin toddlers lived in New York. A feast of a book. “Buford is excellent company - candid, self-deprecating and insatiably, omnivorously interested... [I] wolfed it down.“ - Orlando Bird, Telegraph

Cooking is thinking! Small Fires is an electrifying, innovative memoir. Rebecca May Johnson rewrites the kitchen as a vital source of knowledge and revelation. Drawing on insights from ten years spent thinking through cooking, she explores the radical openness of the recipe text, the liberating constraint of apron strings, and the transformative intimacies of shared meals. Excellent food writing. 'One of the most original food books I've ever read, at once intelligent and sensuous, witty, provoking and truly delicious, a radical feast of flavours and ideas.' - Olivia Laing

In The Kitchen is a thoughtful and inventive book of essays highlighting our personal relationships with food. Rachel Roddy traces an alternative personal history through the cookers in her life; Rebecca May Johnson considers the radical potential of finger food; Ruby Tandoh discovers a new way of thinking about flavour through the work of writer Doreen Fernandez; and Yemisi Aribisala remembers a love affair in which food failed as a language.

VOLUME BooksWHISK
LIONESS by Emily Perkins — reviewed by Stella

Lioness by Emily Perkins

A new Emily Perkins novel is a rare thing (the last being The Forrests in 2012). She’s been writing plays and teaching. And what good things they are. Her take on Isben’s A Doll’s House, which played at the Theatre Royal a few years ago, was superb. So lucky us, it’s a Donna Tart moment this year with the Lioness. It’s always nerve-wracking when a favourite author has a new work. Will you still like their style? Can you resist the temptation to compare? And will this grip you as other writings have? So, the book lands. The cover is shocking and intriguing. A burnt out face. The novel cracks in from the start with our protagonist, Therese having average sex with her older husband, and then discovering, a few pages in, the Viagra tucked away in the suitcase. You sense an unravelling is to begin. Life is too neat. Therese too plastic. Later you realise, malleable. Not by circumstance, rather by choice. A choice to have her ‘dream’ homewares brand, to please everyone even at the loss of her own identity, and to stay quiet when she would rather speak out. You can wear the silk jumpsuit, attend the right events, and host the perfect party, but the girl from the Valley will still appear unexpectedly. There are sneaky tell-tale clues of her other life, of her other self. The drink of choice, rum and coke, the occasional slip in language, and the pulse of something wild just under the surface. This surface will crack open when her developer husband has the spotlight of a fraud enquiry turned on him. Conveniently, in the downstairs apartment is another middle-aged, middle-class (although not quite as privileged or wealthy as Therese) woman, Claire, having an epiphany or crisis — take your pick. While reading this I had the same discomfort as when I read Rachel Cusk’s Second Place. These people — what’s wrong with them? It’s hard to like any of them, even Therese and Claire (the first you have some empathy for, the second yeah, okay, break out if you really need to), especially those adult children who treat Therese (wife number two and not their mother) appallingly. They are universally horrendous. So, what keeps you there, with the Lioness? The writing, as ever, is excellent; Perkin’s observations are squirmingly spot on; the irony and social commentary eviscerating. I loved this more once I closed the pages and left those characters behind. Much like, Cusk’s Second Place, it will make you shudder and laugh simultaneously. 

BLUSH by Natalia Zagórska-Thomas and Jack Robinson — reviewed by Thomas

Blush by Jack Robinson, with photographs by Natalia Zagórska-Thomas

I do not blush, I cannot make myself blush nor put myself in a situation where I would blush, but a blusher cannot help but blush. A blush, according to Darwin, is "the most peculiar and the most human of all expressions," and the expression over which blushers have the least control. It is a signal that subverts all systems of signalling, one that exists below the reach of the intentional and intellectual strata of signalling systems and one that therefore cannot be hidden or misrepresented by them. In this a blush is in a sense unique. A blush can only be authentic, because involuntary, which not only makes a blusher especially awkward, exposed and vulnerable but also, precisely because of these qualities, gives blushing a special attractive power, an authenticity that is imitated by cosmetics but so unconvincingly as to border on irony. “A blush is a quick-motion bruise. A blush is a passing wound, subcutaneous, the blood seeking release but the skin holding tight,” writes Robinson in this thoughtful exploration of the phenomenon of blushing. Blood rushes towards the the locus of action, in the case of a blush towards the interface between the private and the public worlds, towards the tissue where the body ends, where otherness begins. There is “a chink, a gap, a little slippage between me and the other me, the one I’m performing — where the blush gets in.” A blush is a transgression of the customary border between the personal and the public, the border upon which both the world outside us and we ourselves heap so many expectations, personae and intentions, expectations; personae and intentions that are rendered null by a blush. A blush is regarded as embarrassing in the context of these expectations, personae and intentions, both from society and ourselves, but therein lies also the beauty and liberating power of the blush in a world in the grip of a crisis of authenticity, where “we live on the cusp between ignorance and oblivion.” The intimate/over-intimate presentation of a blush is “an index of confusion,” and has the same utility as other indices, where the blood rises to the surface of a book and shows us a way through all that prose. In Blush, Jack Robinson (one of the pseudonyms of Charles Boyle, publisher of the ever-wonderful CB Editions), provides a subtle and insightful phenomenology and social history of blushing alongside witty and equally subtle and insightful images by Natalia Zagórska-Thomas (some more of her work can be seen here), each and both displaying the virtue of lightness that lends their work a polyvalent concision that enables it to keep generating meaning for a considerable time after the reading/viewing has been ostensibly completed. 

Book of the Week: FUNGI OF AOTEAROA by Liv Sisson

What you have always needed and couldn’t find: an accessible and comprehensive identification guide to fungi of Aotearoa! Forager and fungi enthusiast Liv Sisson’s Fungi of Aotearoa: A Curious Forager’s Field Guide is a must for every household. Whether you are a forager, mushroom lover, or just plain curious about these most intriguing of organisms, this book covers all the bases: identification, fascinating facts, foraging tips, and the best ways to cook your fungi are all here in a beautiful package with excellent photography (by Paula Vigus) and descriptions of more than 130 species. And still small enough for your backpack! Perfect. The first print run sold out immediately, but it’s back — and to celebrate we are offering you a special price: $40 (RRP $45)  this week only (promotion ends 28.7.32). Use the promotion code: FUNGI at the checkout on our website, or email us your request. 

NEW RELEASES (21.7.23)

New books — just out of the carton! Click through for your copies now.

Art Monsters: Unruly bodies in feminist art by Laren Elkin $65
For decades, feminist artists have confronted the problem of how to tell the truth about their experiences as bodies. Queer bodies, sick bodies, racialised bodies, female bodies, what is their language, what are the materials we need to transcribe it? Exploring the ways in which feminist artists have taken up this challenge, Art Monsters is a landmark intervention in how we think about art and the body, calling attention to a radical heritage of feminist work that not only reacts against patriarchy but redefines its own aesthetic aims. Elkin demonstrates her power as a cultural critic, weaving links between disparate artists and writers — from Julia Margaret Cameron's photography to Kara Walker's silhouettes, Vanessa Bell's portraits to Eva Hesse's rope sculptures, Carolee Schneemann's body art to Theresa Hak Kyung Cha's trilingual masterpiece DICTEE — and shows that their work offers a potent celebration of beauty and excess, sentiment and touch, the personal and the political.
”Destined to become a new classic.” —Chris Kraus
”Juxtaposes ideas, images, language, in a vivid collage that invites us to look more deeply.” —Jeanette Winterson
”Soaring and vivid. It left me giddy with possibility.” —Doireann Ni Ghriofa
”A fascinating re-visioning and re-imagining of women artists who have used their bodies in all sorts of creative, subversive ways.” —Juliet Jacques
”You won't find anything like this history, told in this way, anywhere else.” —Lubaina Himid
>>Delving into the history.

Lost on Me by Veronica Raimo (translated from Italian by Leah Janeczko) $35
Vero has grown up in Rome with her eccentric family: an omnipresent mother who is devoted to her own anxiety, a father ruled by hygienic and architectural obsessions, and a precocious genius brother at the centre of their attention. As she becomes an adult, Vero's need to strike out on her own leads her into bizarre and comical situations: she tries (and fails) to run away to Paris at the age of fifteen; she moves into an unwitting older boyfriend's house after they have been together for less than a week; and she sets up a fraudulent (and wildly successful) street clothing stall to raise funds to go to Mexico. Most of all, she falls in love — repeatedly, dramatically, and often with the most unlikely and inappropriate of candidates. As she continues to plot escapades and her mother's relentless tracking methods and guilt-tripping mastery thwart her at every turn, it is no wonder that Vero becomes a writer — and a liar — inventing stories in a bid for her own sanity. Narrated in a voice as wryly ironic as it is warm and affectionate, Lost on Me seductively explores the slippery relationship between deceitfulness and creativity (beginning with Vero's first artistic achievement: a painting she steals from a school classmate and successfully claims as her own).
”I fell head over heels in love with Lost on Me. What a thrillingly original voice! Raimo writes with a tender brutality that is simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking.” —Monica Ali
”Many of the pages are jellyfish stings: they burn on and on.” —Claudia Durastanti
Lost on Me is the naughty grandson of Natalia Ginzburg's Family Lexicon. Raimo has tapped the novelistic potential of her affections and has transformed them into comedy.” —Il Corriere della Sera
>>Read an extract.

Look! Said the Little Girl by Tania Norfolk, illustrated by Aleksandra Szmidt $22
 A man and a little girl share their unique way of seeing and hearing the world around them. "Look," said the little girl, "a ladybird!" "A ladybird!" said the old man. "What does she look like?" "Like a tiny turtle in fancy dress — a red polka-dot coat that's hiding a secret." "Wings?" whispered the old man. "Yes, wings," whispered the little girl. "That is a very good secret." As they walk, a young girl describes the things she sees to an elderly, visually impaired man, who turns the tables when he describes to the child what it is that he hears. A delightful book (reminiscent of Mr Rabbit and the Lovely Present) from a Nelson author.
>>Meet the author!

I Will Write to Avenge My People by Annie Ernaux (translated from French by Alison L. Strayer) $26
'I will write to avenge my people.' It was as a young woman that Annie Ernaux first wrote these words in her diary, giving a name to her purpose in life as a writer. She returns to them in her stirring defence of literature and of political writing in her Nobel Lecture, delivered in Stockholm on 7 December 2022. To write of her own life, she asserts, is to 'shatter the loneliness of experiences endured and repressed'; to mine individual experience is to find collective emancipation. Ernaux's speech is a bold assertion of the capacity of writing to give people a sense of their own worth, and of one writer's commitment to bearing witness to life, its joys and its injustices.
>>Books by Annie Ernaux.
>>Ernaux delivers the Nobel lecture.

Ringakōreko / Dazzlehands by Sacha Cotter and Josh Morgan; te reo Māori version by Kawata Teepa $22
The pig won’t say, “Oink”.
”A book bursting with riotous colour and energy. From the authors of the award-winning The Bomb, another excellent and highly enjoyable story about diversity and individuality. Playful language and the best pig ever.” —Stella

A Cage in Search of a Bird by Florence Noiville (translated from French by Teresa Lavender Fagan) $30
— Laura Wilmote is a television journalist living in Paris. Her life couldn't be better-a stimulating job, a loving boyfriend, interesting friends — until her phone rings in the middle of one night. It is C., an old school friend whom Laura recently helped find a job at the same television station: "My phone rang. I knew right away it was you." Thus begins the story of C.'s unrelenting, obsessive, incurable love/hatred of Laura. She is convinced that Laura shares her love, but cannot — or will not — admit it. C. begins to dress as Laura, to make her friends and family her own, and even succeeds in working alongside Laura on the unique program that is Laura's signature achievement. The obsession escalates, yet is artfully hidden. It is Laura who is perceived as the aggressor at work, Laura who appears unwell, Laura who is losing it. Even Laura's adoring boyfriend begins to question her. Laura seeks the counsel of a psychiatrist who diagnoses C. with De Clérambault syndrome — she is convinced that Laura is in love with her. And worse, the syndrome can only end in one of two ways: the death of the patient, or that of the object of the obsession. A Cage in Search of a Bird is the gripping story of two women caught in the vice of a terrible delusion. Florence Noiville brilliantly narrates this story of obsession and one woman's attempts to escape the irrational love of another — an inescapable, never-ending love, a love that can only end badly.
”Look into the mirror, you might not recognise what you see. Watch someone else gaze into the exact same mirror, you might just see yourself. Noiville tackles issues of identity and belonging like few other novelists. A Cage in Search of a Bird is smart, suspenseful, and powerful.” —Colum McCann

You, Bleeding Childhood by Michele Mari (translated from Italian by Brian Robert Moore) $38
Raised on comic books and science fiction, the young Mari constructed an alternate universe for himself untouched by uncomprehending grownups or sadistic peers. Compared to the horrors of real life, Long John Silver and Cthulhu made for positively cuddly company; but little boys raised by beasts may well grow up beastly — or never grow up at all. Waking or sleeping, the obsessions of Mari's youth seem to colour his every adult thought. You, Bleeding Childhood stands as his first attempt to catalog this cabinet of wonders. Cult classics since their first publication in Italy but appearing in English for the first time, these loosely connected stories stand as the ideal introduction to an encyclopedic fantasist often compared with Kafka, Poe, and Borges.
”Emotion, anger, nostalgia: but also affectionate humour, indulgent sympathy in a work that masterfully combines elegance and irony, psychological acumen and an understanding of form, eclectic culture and emotional vulnerability. The work of a child who developed an unstoppable passion for adventure books, for comics, who cultivated a fetishistic relationship with thought, with the imagination; but also with a stubborn self, wounded by the intensity of his perceptions.” —Alida Airaghi

The Lost Rainforests of Britain by Guy Shrubsole $50
In 2020, writer and campaigner Guy Shrubsole moved from London to Devon. As he explored the wooded valleys, rivers and tors of Dartmoor, he discovered a spectacular habitat that he had never encountered before: temperate rainforest. Entranced, he would spend the coming months investigating the history, ecology and distribution of rainforests across England, Wales and Scotland. Britain, Shrubsole discovered, was once a rainforest nation.  This is the story of a unique habitat that has been so ravaged, most people today don't realise it exists. Temperate rainforest may once have covered up to one-fifth of Britain and played host to a dazzling variety of luminous life-forms, inspiring Celtic druids, Welsh wizards, Romantic poets, and Arthur Conan Doyle's most loved creations. Though only fragments now remain, they form a rare and internationally important habitat, home to lush ferns and beardy lichens, pine martens and pied flycatchers. But why are even environmentalists unaware of their existence? And why have they been so comprehensively excise them from cultural memory?
”A magnificent and crucial book that opens our eyes to untold wonders.” —George Monbiot

Cousins by Aurora Venturini (translated by Kit Maude) $33
Widely regarded as Venturini's masterpiece, Cousins is the story of four women from an impoverished, dysfunctional family in La Plata, Argentina, who are forced to suffer a series of ordeals including disfigurement, illegal abortions, miscarriages, sexual abuse and murder, narrated by a daughter whose success as a painter offers her a chance to achieve economic independence and help her family as best she can. Neighborhood mythologies, family, female sexuality, vengeance, and social mobility through art are explored and scrutinized in the unmistakable voice of an unforgettable protagonist, Yuna, who stares wildly at the world in which she is compelled to live; a voice unique in its candidness, sharp edge and breathtaking power.
>>Cruelty and survival.

Ways of Being: Animals, plants, machines; The search for a planetary intelligence by James Bridle $32
What does it mean to be intelligent? Is it something unique to humans or shared with other beings — beings of flesh, wood, stone, and silicon? The last few years have seen rapid advances in ‘artificial’ intelligence. But rather than a friend or companion, AI increasingly appears to be something stranger than we ever imagined, an alien invention that threatens to decenter and supplant us. At the same time, we're only just becoming aware of the other intelligences that have been with us all along, even if we've failed to recognize or acknowledge them. These others — the animals, plants, and natural systems that surround us — are slowly revealing their complexity, agency, and knowledge, just as the technologies we've built to sustain ourselves are threatening to cause their extinction and ours. What can we learn from them, and how can we change ourselves, our technologies, our societies, and our politics to live better and more equitably with one another and the nonhuman world?
”Bridle's writing weaves cultural threads that aren't usually seen together, and the resulting tapestry is iridescently original, deeply disorientating and yet somehow radically hopeful. The only futures that are viable will probably feel like that. This is a pretty amazing book, worth reading and rereading.” —Brian Eno

Vietnamese Vegetarian by Uyen Luu $50
From quick dishes such as Sweet Potato Noodles with Roasted Fennel and Sweetheart Cabbage and Grilled Vegetable Banh Mi, to dishes fit for a feast such as Mushroom and Tofu Phở and Rice Paper Pizza, as well as sweet treats like Rainbow Dessert and Lotus and Sweet Potato Rice Pudding, there is a vast array of dishes for any occasion. With tips and tricks on how to adapt the recipes to use alternative ingredients, this is bound to be everyone’s go-to book on vegetarian Vietnamese food.
>>Look inside!

The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel exports the technology of occupation around the world by Antony Loewenstein $40
For more than 50 years, the occupation of the West Bank and Gaza has given the Israeli state invaluable experience in controlling an 'enemy' population, the Palestinians. It's here that they have perfected the architecture of control, using the occupied Palestinian territories as a testing ground for weaponry and surveillance technology that they then export around the world. The Palestine Laboratory shows in depth and for the first time how Israel has become a leader in developing spying technology and defence hardware that fuels some of the globe's most brutal conflicts — from the Pegasus software that hacked Jeff Bezos's and Jamal Khashoggi's phones, and the weapons sold to the Myanmar army that has murdered thousands of Rohingyas, to the drones being used by the European Union to monitor refugees in the Mediterranean who are left to drown. In important investigation.
This is a must-read on a hidden and shocking aspect of the Israeli colonisation of the Palestinians. This book shows clearly that this kind of export is now Israel's most significant contribution to the global violation of human rights.” —Ilan Pappe
”A triumph of investigative journalism. It exposes the ruthlessness with which Israel exploits the experience gained from the illegal occupation to export all kinds of military hardware as well as the technology of surveillance, espionage, cyber warfare, phone-hacking, and house demolition. It also shines a torch on the dark side of Israel's support for despots around the world. Altogether, a profoundly depressing audit on a country that used to boast of being ‘a light unto the nations’.” —Avi Shlaim
>>A testing ground for war tech.

Wrecked by Heather Henson $21
A gritty YA novel about three teens, caught in the middle of the opioid crisis in rural Appalachia. For as long as Miri can remember it's been her and her dad, Poe, in Paradise — what Poe calls their home — hidden away from prying eyes in rural Kentucky. It's not like Miri doesn't know what her dad does or why people call him ‘the Wizard’. It's not like she doesn't know why Clay, her one friend and Poe's right-hand man, patrols the grounds with a machine gun. It's nothing new, but lately Paradise has started to feel more like a prison. Enter Fen. The new kid in town could prove to be exactly the distraction Miri needs...but nothing is ever simple. Poe doesn't take kindly to strangers. Fen's DEA agent father is a little too interested in Miri's family. And Clay isn't satisfied with being just friends with Miri anymore. But what's past is prologue — it's what will follow that will wreck everything.

The Last Drop: Solving the world’s water crisis by Tim Smedley $40
Water scarcity is the next big climate crisis. Water stress — not just scarcity, but also water-quality issues caused by pollution — is already driving the first waves of climate refugees. Rivers are drying out before they meet the oceans and ancient lakes are disappearing. It's increasingly clear that human mismanagement of water is dangerously unsustainable, for both ecological and human survival. And yet in recent years some key countries have been quietly and very successfully addressing water stress. How are Singapore and Israel, for example — both severely water-stressed countries — not in the same predicament as Chennai or California?

McSweeney’s #70 edited by James Yeh $50
Inludes Patrick Cottrell's story about a surprisingly indelible Denver bar experience; poignant, previously untranslated fiction from beloved Danish writer Tove Ditlevsen; Argentine writer Olivia Gallo's English language debut about rampaging urban clowns; the rise and fall of an unusual family of undocumented workers in rural California by Francisco González; and Indian writer Amit Chaudhuri's sojourn to the childhood home of Brooklyn native Neil Diamond. Readers will be sure to delight in Guggenheim recipient Edward Gauvin's novella-length memoir-of-sorts in the form of contributors' notes, absorbing short stories about a celebrated pianist (Lisa Hsiao Chen) and a reclusive science-fiction novelist (Eugene Lim), flash fiction by Véronique Darwin and Kevin Hyde, and a suite of thirty-six very short stories by the outsider poet Sparrow. Plus letters from Seoul, Buenos Aires, Las Vegas, Philadelphia, and Lake Zurich, Illinois, by E. Tammy Kim, Drew Millard, and more.
>>Look inside.

Book of the Week: I AM HOMELESS IF THIS IS NOT MY HOME by Lorrie Moore

The dual narratives in Lorrie Moore’s wonderful new novel act as calipers — one point in the post-Civil War period; one point in the chaos of 2016 — to inscribe the awkward, unsettling and ludicrous omnipresence of death in American culture. Whether describing a road trip with a protagonist’s undead love interest or the troubles that haunt a woman running a boarding house and hiding a secret one-and-a-half centuries earlier, Moore’s writing is better than ever — funniest when it is blackest; most incisive when applied to the unresolved and messy edges of experience.

I AM HOMELESS IF THIS IS NOT MY HOME by Lorrie Moore — reviewed by Stella

I Am Homeless If This Is Not My Home by Lorrie Moore — reviewed by Stella

An enigmatic novel that is as compelling as its title. My first encounter with Lorrie Moore was another wonderfully entitled work, Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? This was her second novel, published in the mid-90s, and revolved around a middle-aged woman’s bittersweet nostalgia for her young adolescent self. Centred around an amusement park the ferris wheel featured largely, always looming in the backdrop. I remember it for its sharp writing and keen observation. Moore’s fourth novel, I Am Homeless If This Is Not My Home, is even more closely observed and has such verve. It’s a wild ride — elegiac and metaphysical. It’s intriguing and mystifying. Just as you start to pin it down it whirls off, angling towards something just beyond. It’s 2016. America is tipping itself into the abyss. Finn, a teacher on enforced leave (his state of mind is far from perfect), is attending to his brother at a hospice until he is called away by a call from his ex-girlfriend’s book group chum. But wait! The first chapter is a million miles from this. Someone is writing a letter. The language is arcane. The tone familial. It’s a letter to her dear sister. As we read on, we deduce that the letter-penner is the landlady of a boarding house near the close of the American Civil War. It’s a letter of complaint and later (more letters follow interspersed with Finn’s story) confessional about her interactions with one of her lodgers and his eventual death. And death or, more accurately, loss, is at the centre of this novel. Finn is lost, his brother is losing the battle to stay alive, his ex-girlfriend, Lily, is in limbo — well, actually, she is undead, and the landlady’s confession reveals a death. Sounds a bit glum? Well, it’s not. It’s hilariously funny in the way that the macabre can be and the relationship between Finn and Lily (after she’s risen out of the dirt, a few worms in situ, from the green cemetery) is charged with energy and, dare I say it, life, as they embark on a road trip to find her final resting place. The dialogue throughout the novel, whether it’s Finn clumsily attempting to cheer up his brother, the banter about how Lily looks in her undead guise, or the landlady’s dismissal of her lodger, is sharp and sparking with energy. The observations of human weakness, kindness, and contempt (Lily is a thorny prospect dead or alive), are wry and sometimes devastating. On these lunatic fringes, we are all standing on the edge watching others go before us. Moore reminds us we might fall in. But then again, we could always go home.

GROVE by Esther Kinsky — reviewed by THOMAS

Grove, A field novel by Esther Kinsky (translated from German by Caroline Schmidt) — reviewed by Thomas

“Absence is inconceivable, as long as there is presence. For the bereaved, the world is defined by absence,” she wrote. She went to Olevano, some distance from Rome, in the hills, in the winter, two months after her partner died, the bereavement was taking hold, she no longer fitted into her life. It was winter, as I said, she stayed alone in Olevano, she looked out of the window, she went for walks, she took photographs, she wrote. The whole place, and the text she wrote, was cold, damp, dim, filled with mist, vagueness, echoes, mishearings. Well, of course. This is not to say that her observations were not precise, preternaturally precise, and the sentences she wrote to describe them, they too were preternaturally precise, whatever that means. “In the unfamiliar landscape I learned to read the spatial shifts that come along with changes to the incidence of light.” She is unable to think of the one who is lost, rather, the one she has lost, she is unable to face an absence that at this time is an overwhelming absence, instead she observes in minute detail, with great subtlety, as if subtlety could be anything but great, the particulars of the day and the season, the fall of light, those things that only she could notice, or only a bereaved person could notice, the weight of noticing shifted by her bereavement, death pulling at everything and changing its shape, changing the fall of light, even, or making her aware of changes in the fall of light, and in the shape of everything, so to call it, that are inaccessible to the non-bereaved. There are other worlds, but they are all in this one, wrote Paul Éluard, apropos of something, if it was him who wrote it, and if that was what he wrote, if these are different things, but as we can cope with the world only by suppressing almost everything that comes at us, even at best, we notice only as our circumstances allow, our mental circumstances, our emotional circumstances perhaps most significantly, and we are somehow sharing space but seeing everything differently from others and some more differently than others. We live in different worlds in the same world. She was bereaved, she saw what she saw, observed what she observed, with great precision and intensity as I have said, out of the mist, among the fallen leaves. There is a cemetery in every town, or vice-versa, she visits them all, acquaints herself with the faces of the dead, but not her dead, not the one of whom she is bereaved. She writes of herself in a continuous past, “I would.” she writes, “Each morning I went,” she writes, as if also all that is observed also continues in this continuous and unbordered way, which might be so. Death, first of all, is an aberration of time, bereavement acts on time like a point of infinite gravity that cannot be observed but which bends all else. Memories are the property of death, there can be no memories if she is to face each day, though the memories pluck at her in her dreams. She observes, she wanders, she acts on nothing, she changes nothing, the season moves slowly through darkness and chill. She travels to the nearby towns and into the hills, the mists. She recognises herself more in those displaced like her to Italy, the migrants and the refugees, those for whom no easy place welcomes them, those who have lost something, recently, that the others around there have perhaps not recently lost. “We sized each other up as actors on a stage of foreignness,” she writes, “Each concerned with his own fragmented role, whose significance for the entire play, directed from an unknown place, might never come to light.” She is aware, everywhere, of the loss that outlines and gives shape to that which goes on, and the mechanisms of loss that are built into the function of a whole town, or a whole human life. She sees the junkyard by the bus station, “an intermediate space for the partially discarded, whose time for final absence has nevertheless not yet arrived.” She visits the Etruscan tombs and sees the reliefs there as a membrane separating the living from the dead, their loss is one of space as well as of time, what is shared between her and them is two dimensional only, “as if the dead would know how to reach through the cool thickness of the masonry to touch the object’s or animal’s other side, invisible to us, and hold it in their life-averted hands.” The membrane is infinitely thin. It is only two dimensions. It is everywhere. She asks, “Will it wither away, the hand I pull back from the morti?” Time passes. Something unobserved is changing beneath the changes she observes, “the Spring air a different shade of blue-gray.” She leaves Olevano and leaves the first section of the book. Because she, we, you, I perceive only a fraction of what we could call the external, the fraction to which we are at a moment attuned, it is easy to fall out of tune with others. For her, whom bereavement has differently attuned, or untuned, her reattunement must be achieved by words, she who lives by words must recalibrate her world through words, descriptions, care, precision, nuance, it is wrong to think of nuance as somehow imprecise, it, all this, is an exercise in slowness, and we who read must also change our speed to the speed of her noticing if we are to experience the text, if we are to experience, through the wonder of her text, somehow, her experience, or something thereof. The external reveals itself only to those moving at the precise right speed of perception, so she shows us, and so too her text reveals itself only to those moving at the precise right speed, those who read the text at the speed the text requires. In the second section she remembers, memory being the province of death, or vice-versa, her father, of whom she has also been bereaved, a little longer ago, and the holidays in Italy of her childhood, with him, and, presumably, with her mother, though this section deals specifically with memories of her father, perhaps because her mother is still alive, if she is still alive. This section is the section of the father, of the memories of the father more particularly, the only way her father now exists, he has finished contributing to memories that might be had of him and fairly soon these memories become the memories of memories, the parts magnified becoming still more magnified, the other parts abraded, becoming lost. Each memory contains a necropolis, it seems. With nothing, she begins the third and final section. She rents a cottage, so to call it, in the delta of the Po. Marshes, salt pans, mists again, fogs, rains. Birds. It is winter. “Everything had been repeatedly disturbed, was forever suspended between traces and effacement.” All that is human, and all of nature is abraded. “It was even hot when I arrived, the air similarly gray and viscous, and the landscape lay motionless, disintegrating under its weight; on hillcrests and in the occasionally visible strips of riverbank clung fragments of memory that had been torn away from a larger picture and settled there.” Time moves differently, again, here, she lets it, broken things stand about, the past is forgotten but is everywhere, is in the dust and mud, more often mud, the rain, the fog. “It was a place that could only be found in its absence, by recalling what was lost, therein lay its reality.” But here in this slow nowhere something almost unperceived begins to change, the emptiness provides a space, the past gets somehow out of her, death begins not to completely overwhelm her, memory relinquishes something of its choke. She even gets a ride to town with the owner of the cottage, in his car. Perhaps she comes to think that history is the proper province of the past. “Among the places of the living are the places of the dead,” she says, and not vice-versa nor one inside the other. She visits Ravenna and in Ravenna the two mosaics spoken of to her by her father not long before his death, actually the last time she saw him before his death. The mosaics are now outside her, sensed, and no longer trapped inside, her father’s experience of the two blue mosaics likewise no longer trapped, the experience of her father, something of a connoisseur of blue, no longer confined inside the one who is bereaved, the bearer of his memory, but somehow shared with her. These two mosaics, I wonder, for her, also a connoisseur of blue, are, perhaps, the mosaic of life and the mosaic of death. “These two mosaics — the dark-blue, bordered harbour with its still unsteady boats; and the light-blue expanse with no obstruction, nothing nameable, not even a horizon.”

>>Your copy.

NEW RELEASES (15.7.23)

New books — just out of the carton! Click through for your copies now.

Audition by Pip Adam $35
Audition is hurtling through space towards the event horizon. Squashed immobile into its rooms are three giants: Alba, Stanley and Drew. If they talk, the spaceship keeps moving; if they are silent, they resume growing. Talk they must, and as they do, Alba, Stanley and Drew recover their shared memory of what has been done to their incarcerated former selves. Or are they constructing those selves from memory-scripts that have been implanted in them? Part science fiction, part social realism, Audition asks what happens when systems of power decide someone takes up too much room – and about how we live with each other’s violences – and imagines a new kind of justice.
”In parts sci-fi, absurdist, fabulist, social realist—although all attempts to categorise fall short and do the novel a disservice—this is exciting and inventive writing in the hands of an extraordinary writer. Readers may find themselves equal parts unmoored and floored by this thrilling novel. I haven’t stopped thinking about it.” —Deborah Crabtree
>>”My work always comes from somewhere else.”
>>Constraints and space.

The Planetarium by Nathalie Sarraute (translated from French by Maria Jolas) $33
A young writer has his heart set on his aunt's large apartment. With this seemingly simple conceit, the characters of The Planetarium are set in orbit and a galaxy of argument, resentment, and bitterness erupts. Telling the story from various points of view, Sarraute focuses below the surface, on the emotional lives of the characters in a way that surpasses even Virginia Woolf. Always deeply engaging, The Planetarium reveals the deep disparity between the way we see ourselves and the way others see us. A key work in the history of the French modernist novel (first published in 1959); the English translation is back in print at last.
”Sarraute’s ability to capture those fleeting impulses that rise to the surface of consciousness only to be immediately resubmerged, or which settle on the surface of consciousness (consciousness being necessarily a surface, I suppose) only to immediately take flight towards another surface, gives insight into the primal, almost organic emotional flux that underlies (or overarches) what we commonly think of as individual personality. Even the most complex of our interactions is compounded of impulses barely distinguishable from nothing.” —Thomas
”The best thing about Nathalie Sarraute is her stumbling, groping style, with its honesty and numerous misgivings, a style that approaches the object with reverent precautions, withdraws from it suddenly out of a sort of modesty, or through timidity before its complexity, then, when all is said and done, suddenly presents us with the drooling monster, almost without having touched it, through the magic of an image." —Jean-Paul Sartre
>>Read Thomas’s review of Tropisms.

I Am Homeless If This Is Not My Home by Lorrie Moore $35
A teacher visiting his dying brother in the Bronx. A mysterious journal from the nineteenth century stolen from a boarding house. A therapy clown and an assassin, both presumed dead, but perhaps not dead at all… With Moore’s distinctive wordplay and singular wry humour, this book is a magic box of longing and surprise — about love and rebirth and the pull towards life.
"Is it an allegory? Is it real? It doesn't matter. Exploring sibling love, death, and longing, it's a novel with big questions, no answers, and it's absolutely brilliant." —Emily Firetog
”Moore's sterling literary reputation is anchored most firmly to her short stories, but in her long-awaited fourth novel, her prose is just as breathtakingly crystalline, her humor wily and piquant. A curious spin on Faulkner's As I Lay Dying, with frissons of George Saunders's Lincoln in the Bardo), Moore's unnerving, gothic, acutely funny, lyrically metaphysical, and bittersweet tale is an audacious, mind-bending plunge into the mysteries of illness, aberration, death, grief, memory, and love." —Donna Seaman
"Moore is revered for her wit, and fans will not be disappointed by the novel's dark humour. The prose might be her finest." —Claire Messud
”Moore manages the impossible in her writing: every other sentence is a gut-punch or the funniest line you've ever read, and it coheres into some of the truest writing about life-for what is life if not constantly either hilarious or devastating, and often both? I Am Homeless If This Is Not My Home is a ghost story, a love story, a family elegy, and a search for answers both tangible and ephemeral: it's the world of Lorrie Moore, beckoning us back in." —LitHub
>>New possibilities.

Na Viro by Gina Cole $35
Appearing before the head of the Academy for fighting at her graduation ceremony, puffer ship navigator Tia Grom-Eddy must either join the crew of a spaceship on a deep space mission or complete a lengthy probationary period on Earth. Mortally afraid of travelling into deep space, Tia chooses probation. Estranged from her parents, Tia is bereft when her sister, Leilani, joins the crew of a puffer fish spaceship sent to investigate a whirlpool in deep space. And when the cosmic whirlpool sucks Leilani’s shuttle into its grip, Tia must overcome her fear of space travel and find a way to work with her mother, who is leading the rescue, or risk losing her sister forever. A science fiction fantasy novel and a work of Pasifikafuturism from the author of Black Ice Matter.
>>Outer space through a Pasifika lens.
>>Put on hold.

A Very Easy Death by Simone de Beauvoir (translated from French by Patrick O’Brian) $35
Long considered one of Simone de Beauvoir’s masterpieces, A Very Easy Death is a profoundly affecting, day-by-day recounting of her mother’s final days after she is hospitalized following a fall. Though a devout Catholic, her faith is subsumed by her terror of death, and as her body fails, she clings to life with fierce, primal desperation. In depicting her mother’s refusal to ‘go gentle’ while her autonomy and dignity are taken from her, Simone de Beauvoir “shows the power of compassion when it is allied with acute intelligence” (Sunday Telegraph). Powerful, touching and sometimes shocking, this is an end-of-life account that no reader is likely to forget. With an introduction by Ali Smith.
”True, and deeply moving.” — Annie Ernaux
”Nowhere is de Beauvoir’s rigorous honesty more visible than in this haunting account of the death of her mother... As she charts her last weeks and her abasement at the hands of doctors and illness, both hostility and unexpected love play themselves out on the page.” — Lisa Appignanesi

A Garden is a Long Time by Annemarie Hope-Cross and Jenny Bornholdt $50
The photographs in A garden is a long time take us beyond the perimeter of the Central Otago garden where they were created. Incorporating processes and materials from the darker, more mysterious corners of early photographic history, the images offer an account of the life and sensibility of a remarkable artist, Annemarie Hope-Cross (1968–2022). With Jenny Bornholdt’s poetry and prose treading deftly around the edges of Annemarie’s life and photographic work, A garden is a long time is a meditation on time, light and the spaces we all inhabit. For Hope-Cross, photography was, at once, a science and a miracle; the camera was an echo chamber and each photograph was a place where past and present met, where the living communed with those lost along the way, and where the most ordinary plants and objects were rendered mysterious, at times radiant. These photographic exposures, and the words that accompany them, are the heartfelt measure of an hour, a day, a season, a lifetime.
>>Look inside the book!
>>Portfolios of Hope-Cross’s photography.

Collected Works by Lydia Sandgren (translated from Swedish by Agnes Broome) $37
Martin Berg is slowly falling into crisis. Decades ago, he was an aspiring writer who'd almost finished his novel, his girlfriend was the shockingly intelligent and beautiful Cecilia Wickner, and his best friend was the up-and-coming artist Gustav Becker. But Martin's manuscript has long been languishing in a desk drawer, Gustav has stopped answering his calls, and Cecilia has been missing for years. Not long after they were married, she vanished from his life and left him to raise their two young children alone. So who was Cecilia? Martin's eccentric wife, Gustav's enigmatic muse, an absent mother — a woman who was perhaps only true to herself. When Martin's daughter Rakel stumbles across a clue about what happened to her mother, she becomes determined to fill in the gaps in her family's story.
”Utterly gripping, like the films of Richard Linklater transmuted to the page. A magnificent doorstop of a novel.” —Guardian
>>Human existence of full of misery.
>>We don’t get endless opportunities.
>>Love, power, and art.

A History of Masculinity: From patriarchy to gender justice by Ivan Jablonka (translated from French by Nathan Bracher) $32
What does it mean to be a good man? To be a good father, or a good partner? A good brother, or a good friend? Jablonka offers a re-examination of the patriarchy and its impact on men. Ranging widely across cultures, from Mesopotamia to Confucianism to Christianity to the revolutions of the eighteenth century, Jablonka uncovers the origins of our patriarchal societies. He then offers an updated model of masculinity based on a theory of gender justice which aims for a redistribution of gender, just as social justice demands the redistribution of wealth. Arguing that it is high time for men to be as involved in gender justice as women, Jablonka shows that in order to build a more equal and respectful society, we must gain a deeper understanding of the structure of patriarchy — and reframe the conversation so that men define themselves by the rights of women.

The Hidden Fires: A Cairngorms journey with Nan Shepherd by Merryn Glover $40
Elemental, fierce and full of wonder, the Cairngorm mountains are the high and rocky heart of Scotland. To know them would take forever, to love them demands a kind of courageous surrender. In The Hidden Fires, Merryn Glover undertakes that challenge with Nan Shepherd as companion and guiding light. Following in the footsteps and contours of The Living Mountain, she explores the same landscapes and themes as Shepherd's seminal work. This is a journey separated by time but unified by space and purpose, a conversation between two women across nearly a century that explores how entering the life of a mountain can illuminate our own.
”A dazzling adventure into mountain, place and time. Redolent with the presence of Nan Shepherd, this book will captivate lovers of The Living Mountain.” —Esther Woolfson
>>The Living Mountain.

Porn: An oral history by Polly Barton $37
”Barton’s book carves out a space to hear a multitude of experiences, from interviewees of different genders and sexualities, who look at a range of porn from mainstream, queer, feminist or amateur. This kaleidoscopic approach allows us to understand many things about porn beyond if it is good or bad, empowering or exploitative, feminist or misogynistic. Activist or academic voices are the ones most commonly heard in conversations about porn. Barton instead gives the consumer a space to add their voices and knowledge to this ever-changing debate, and as a result they offer valuable and engaging insight into the everyday nature of porn consumption.'“ —Caroline West, Irish Independent
”I found my time with Porn: An Oral History unexpectedly moving. Barton’s candid, generous style as an interlocutor allows her subjects to move fluidly between their sometimes contradictory instincts and intellectual approaches in a way which feels revelatory and totally honest and human. A pleasure to read, and a vital new work for anyone interested in sex and its representation.” — Megan Nolan
”I wasn’t expecting nineteen conversations about porn to make me feel as I felt after reading this book: grateful and hopeful and wide-open. Porn is a generous, intimate commentary on how we relate to one another (or fail to) through the most unlikely of lenses.” — Saba Sams
”Porn is many things – a prompt for dreams, the outsourcing of fantasies, a heuristic for the construction of desire – but it is often omitted from our “spoken life”, to use Polly Barton’s wonderful phrase. In Porn, she manages to get people to talk about this subject both omnipresent and omnipresently swept under the rug, peeling off her informers’ ideological armour to get at what they really like and why, and invites us to ask, without forcing any answers, what it means for an entire society to possess an entire guilty conscience surrounding a genre now constitutive of our understanding of what sex is.” — Adrian Nathan West
>>The floodgates open.
>>Comfort level.
>>Read Thomas’s review of Fifty Sounds.

One of Them by Shaneel Lal $37
Growing up queer in a tiny, conservative village in Fiji, Shaneel Lal was subjected to beatings, torture and other horrific treatment from the elders and others, intended to drive the queerness from them or to stop it spreading to others(!). Escaping to Aotearoa, they were shocked to find that similar practices were legal here, and they became one of the inspiring voices in the ultimately successful campaign to outlaw so-called conversion therapy.

The Creative Act: A way of being by Rick Rubin $50
The legendary music producer has made a practice of helping people transcend their self-imposed expectations in order to reconnect with a state of innocence from which the surprising becomes inevitable. Over the years, as he has thought deeply about where creativity comes from and where it doesn't, he has learned that being an artist isn't about your specific output; it's about your relationship to the world.
”A gorgeous, delicious and wildly practical interrogation of the creative process. A master of his craft, Rubin supplies rich insights, sound advice, helpful suggestions and supreme comfort to anyone living to create, or endeavoring to live creatively.'“ —JJ Abrams
”This book is a companion to anyone on the creative path; for me, Rick Rubin's attention, consideration, ideas have dug themselves down deep into my consciousness and grown with my work, so that over time, I have found myself in the shelter of a huge resplendent tree, and remembered that it all started with a word or two from a person who really, really listened. May it start something similar in you.'“ — Kae Tempest

WHISK — Cookbooks at Volume

Sunday afternoon:
Thomas makes cinnamon buns from THE NORDIC BAKING BOOK by Magnus Nilsson.

This wonderful book contains recipes for many of the things I remember my Danish grandmother making (and me eating) when I was a child, but also hundreds of other cakes, breads, pastries and biscuits, with regional vartiations and Nilsson’s personable and illuminating commentary. We use the book frequently. On Sunday afternoon I made cinnamon buns, even though we still had cardamom cake (also from that book) left from Saturday.

…and Æbleskiver for breakfast!

Nilsson’s The Nordic Cookbook (which we also have) is similarly comprehensive, and provides insight into a wider swathe of Scandinavian food culture, with, again, hundreds of recipes and variations (and many more dishes from Farmor’s repertoire).

VOLUME BooksWHISK
Tractatus Philosophico-Poeticus by Signe Gjessing — reviewed by Thomas

Tractatus Philosophico-Poeticus by Signe Gjessing (traslated from Danish by Denise Newman) 

For some reason it had become a habit for him to write his reviews of books in the style of the books themselves, or as near a style as he could manage, a habit or an affectation, he wasn’t sure which, but this habit or affectation, if it was indeed a habit or an affectation, did have a serious intent, and was therefore not really a habit although it still could be an affectation, in that he somehow seemed to believe that a review written in the style of the subject of the review might reveal to him, and possibility to the readers of the review if there chanced to be any readers of the review, if such things could be left to chance, really such things were always left to chance, what was he saying, he seemed to believe that a review written in the style of the subject of the review might reveal something otherwise unnoticed or essential or incidental about the book in question, perhaps he was attempting to remove himself from a position of agency or of responsibility for the review by enticing, if that is the word, the book to write a review of itself. Form generates content, he shouted, frightening the cat, I want to write like a machine, I want to tinker with form until it purrs like a literary motor, then I will be able to put anything at all into the hopper, switch it on, and out comes literature. The cat was quick to resettle, she was used to this kind of excitement. If I were to write a review of Signe Gjessing’s Tractatus Philosophico-Poeticus in the form of Signe Gjessing’s Tractatus Philosophico-Poeticus I would also be writing it in the form of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, he thought, I would be writing it in the form of  Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus because Signe Gjessing has written her book in the form of Ludwig Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, in order, he thought, to see what kind of poetry could be generated by such a form, in order to use form as a machine for the generation of text, in order, he thought, to test the limits of language, to see what it is and is not good for, just like Wittgenstein, or just like Wittgenstein thought he was doing at the time he wrote that book. If Wittgenstein made no distinction between form and content, the same must be true of poetry, he thought. If for Wittgenstein the limits of knowledge are the limits of language, what are we to say of poetry, always straining as it does, or as it should, he thought or thought that perhaps he thought, into the unsayable? If Wittgenstein sought the limit of what can be said, through progressing out linguistically from the obvious towards that limit, pushing at it and establishing it, he thought, he entails that beyond that limit there exists not nothing but rather that about which nothing can be said. What cannot be said is signified by the complete exhaustion of that which can be said. Gjessing also is obsessed with the limit with which Wittgenstein was at the time he wrote his book obsessed, but she stands at that limit as if from the habitat beyond, both Wittgenstein and Gjessing are concerned to discover the nature of the limit inherent in language, if there is such a limit and such a limit is inherent, but Gjessing wants, he thought, to destroy that limit or even to show that the destruction of the limit inherent in language is itself inherent in language. He had written in his bad handwriting in his notebook that Gjessing had written in the introduction to her book that “The poem is a modification of the universal — as though the sayable were an incapacity of the unsayable,” and, he thought, Gjessing is running Wittgenstien’s machine in reverse to see what poetry comes out. If the world is comprised not of things but of states of affairs which are the grammatical relations between things, there is no reason to think that that which is not the case is not governed by or, he thought, even generated by this universal grammar. Texts are comprised not of words but of grammar, he shouted, but the cat was long gone. Well, he thought, if I was going to write my review of Signe Gjessing’s Tractatus Philosophico-Poeticus in the form of Signe Gjessing’s Tractatus Philosophico-Poeticus, I should have started earlier, I should have started, as does Gjessing, as does Wittgenstein to whose text Gjessing’s text is a response and a rejoinder, with a number of numbered statements on the first level to which another number of statements numbered to the first decimal respond or are implied and to which another number of statements numbered to the second decimal respond or are implied and so on until perhaps the fourth decimal or what we could call the fifth level, I’m not exactly sure if this is clear, a shining rack of cogs used in Wittgenstein’s case to generate philosophy, if he believed at that time there even was such a thing, and in Gjessing’s case to generate poetry, or whatever we might choose to call it, if I had written my review like this, he thought, what would I have written? Perhaps if I can devise such a grammatical machine to write reviews, a machine I can just turn upon any text, I can perhaps be relieved of certain of my duties, except perhaps to now and again apply a little oil, and perhaps get sometimes earlier to bed. 


“3.01  The world is a good alternative to certainty.”
—Signe Gjessing, Tractatus Philiosphico-Poeticus

Book of the Week: THE WORDS FOR HER by Thomasin Sleigh

It seems that we have become dependent on photographs for our memories, for our identities, even for our authenticity. This fascinating novel explores what would happen if people started to become unrecordable by media, to disappear from photographs, to become gaps in a world in which image has become a substitute for actuality. The novel succeeds both because there is so much packed into it to think about (how we see, how we remember, the relationships between words and images, and the pictures we make in our heads of the fictional or of the actual) and because it is a superb portrayal of an ordinary life in a small town in Aotearoa and how that ordinary life is impacted as what we had thought of as reality begins to change in ways that we can neither control nor understand.

WHISK — Cookbooks at Volume

The blue glass bowl featured here belonged to my Greek Cypriot grandmother, Maria. It reminds me of sitting at her table eating feta, olives and the best sesame-coated biscuits ever, while the scent of slow-cooking food and spices particular to Cypriot cuisine permeated the air.

Ingredients at the ready for Louvana Me Marathos — budget conscious, with a delicious result!

TAVERNA: Recipes from a Cypriot kitchen by Georgina Hayden — reviewed by STELLA

I have a few Greek cookbooks, but this one I love the best. Partly, because it’s Cypriot cuisine and partly because I’ve become enamoured with several dishes from Taverna.  The one that had me hooked straight away was the Louvana Me Marathos (yellow split pea and wild fennel soup) - so delicious and hearty, especially with a poached egg on top (vegan without). Perfect for any time of the year, and I can recommend it for a hearty winter supper, as well as refreshing summer fare. The lemon gives it zing, while the creamy texture of the split peas and rice is the ultimate comfort eating.
My father made the best keftedes — soft and flavoursome — so I’m always looking to replicate the texture (in my own pescatarian way). Georgina Hayden’s Fish Keftedes in Mustard and Dill are both delicate, creamy and indulgent — and flexible. You can swap out the fish type and adjust the quantity without any major repercussions, and the dill can be swapped for fennel. There are several keftedes recipes — three vegetable (including aubergine, of course) and pork. There are the slow-baked lamb and moussaka dishes which look just like my Yaya’s cooking right down to the enamel dishes, as well as the familiar traditional sweet pastries. In Taverna, Hayden draws on these favourites but also brings a contemporary twist to many of the dishes, making them lighter and less time-consuming to make. If you have apples, make the simple cake Milopita. Oranges? Portokalopita — a delicious sticky citrus wonder with shredded filo and yoghurt. But my favourites in this book remain tilted towards the savoury and everyday. Greek Cypriot cuisine is notable for its blend of Mediterranean and Middle Eastern influences, with plenty of fish and vegetarian choices. From simple fare to feasts, this is a cookbook to enjoy for its recipes as well as Georgina Hayden’s island and family stories.