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Lauren Elkin
Lauren Elkin is most recently the author of No. 91/92: notes on a Parisian commute (Semiotext(e)/Fugitives) and the UK translator of Simone de Beauvoir's previously unpublished novel, The Inseparables (Vintage). Her previous book Flâneuse: Women Walk the City (Chatto/FSG) was a finalist for the PEN/Diamonstein-Spielvogel Award for the Art of the Essay, a New York Times Notable Book of 2017, and a BBC Radio 4 Book of the Week. Her essays have appeared in Granta, the London Review of Books, Harper’s, the New York Times, and Frieze, among others. Her next book, Art Monsters, will be out in July 2023 (Chatto/FSG). She lives in London.

Articles Available Online


Maria Gainza’s ‘Optic Nerve’

Book Review

May 2019

Lauren Elkin

Book Review

May 2019

In his foreword to A Thousand Plateaus, on the pleasures of philosophy, and of Deleuze and Guattari’s philosophy in particular, Brian Massumi writes:  ...

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Issue No. 8

Barking From the Margins: On écriture féminine

Lauren Elkin

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Issue No. 8

 I. Two moments in May May 2, 2011. The novelists Siri Hustvedt and Céline Curiol are giving a talk...

ST JOAN The great actress Renée Jeanne Falconetti stands trial for heresy, a woeful story told with her eyes and their shadows, deep ponds of grey long-written about Carl Theodor Dreyer’s La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc was filmed in 1928 Falconetti’s Joan wobbles between the fortitude of her beliefs and the struggle of her impertinence Poor girl soldier Down some wild time tunnel that unfurls to reconnect us, it’s 1431 She’s nineteen years old  The judges at her trial are glib and rotund, spoils of screaming meat robed and hooded, their spittle landing on her cheek in sharp whips   FRAGMENTS The iconography of the Catholic Church calls to me on every damned vacation I can remember taking I can’t resist visiting ornately carved altars where tokens of grotesque and antiquated clues to faith, and to the unravelling of faith, are tucked away Teeth, bone fragments, hair, splinters and textiles Burned, flooded, bloodied, treasured Put them together and an odiferous lair of mystical toxicity could sink a parallel world Where does the pain go that pulls people apart, bloodying them, setting them on fire, yanking out teeth?   On a bookshelf in my living room, there is a ceramic Noah’s Ark container that fits in my palm The bottom half is the boat, and its lid is decorated with sculpted giraffes and elephants, desperate for their storied escape, but smiling their animal smiles all the same Inside, I’ve stowed my son’s baby teeth, one by one, after pilfering them from his letters to the tooth fairy It’s only after they’ve all fallen out that I learn their synonyms: ‘milk teeth’ and ‘deciduous teeth’ Milk teeth have filament-thin roots; not strong enough to grow a whole life, but useful nonetheless Deciduous trees shed their leaves annually, signalled by the changing seasons We are all subject to this flying planetary axis, taking this wild ride, shedding our milk teeth for some greater cause   JONI When all the single mothers of my childhood gathered over the cauldron of the CrockPot potlucks, they listened to Joni Mitchell The album cover was beige and austere, with five words written in cursive: Court and Spark/Joni Mitchell

Contributor

August 2014

Lauren Elkin

Contributor

August 2014

Lauren Elkin is most recently the author of No. 91/92: notes on a Parisian commute (Semiotext(e)/Fugitives) and the UK...

The End of Francophonie: The Politics of French Literature

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Issue No. 2

Lauren Elkin

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Issue No. 2

I. We were a couple of minutes late for the panel we’d hoped to attend. The doors were closed and there was a surly-looking...

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Interview

April 2012

Interview with Grant Gee

Evan Harris

Interview

April 2012

As the theatre is relit and the credits roll on Grant Gee’s latest film, Patience (After Sebald), an essay on...

fiction

July 2015

Scropton, Sudbury...

Jessie Greengrass

fiction

July 2015

My parents were grocers. For twenty-five years they owned a shop with a green awning and crates of vegetables...

fiction

April 2013

The Taxidermist

Olivia Heal

fiction

April 2013

I did not want to walk. The day was dull. But imperative or impulsion pushed me out, onto the...

 

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