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Helen Charman
Helen Charman is a writer and academic based in Glasgow. Her first book, Mother State – a political history of motherhood — is forthcoming from Allen Lane in 2024. She teaches in the English Studies department at Durham University.

Articles Available Online


Attachment Barbies: On Watching Grey’s Anatomy

Essay

March 2023

Helen Charman

Essay

March 2023

In August 2022, ABC announced that Ellen Pompeo, currently the highest-paid actress on American network television, was leaving Grey’s Anatomy, the show on which...

Book Review

May 2021

HOLDING THE ROOM: ON HOLLY PESTER’S ‘COMIC TIMING’

Helen Charman

Book Review

May 2021

The last poem in Holly Pester’s first collection COMIC TIMING (Granta, 2021) is called ‘Villette’; it shares its title...

A sparkling frost-clear landscape exists between them under a soft and smudged sky Irises exist, blue and yellow, and those that wither in a hurry Tufted grass and quaking grass exist and the night-blue sloe berry that pulls sour coldness into the face and frosts over the teeth Muddy water and clear springs exist; language that captivates and shoves aside exist, words that beg for mercy, make demands, that regret and apologise, shove aside and once again captivate   A light that uncovers everything exists Darkness exists   And they have been through it all, from one end to the other, over and over again While years replace years and lay new tracks in their handwriting, in their bodies’ falling lines   *   Now she’s lying in bed She’s sleeping The hotel room is grimy and worn, and outside: the city, traffic, a surge of movement and sound At last they’ve met, God would’ve sworn it was impossible after all this time Their advances, so cautious, at an incredible distance She’s sleeping, still warm from his hands; she’s lying on her stomach, the bony stretch of her spine protruding hard from her skin in the twilight He can’t remember when he last slept and he’s smoking with iron lungs and a coated tongue This is killing me, he thinks   *   ‘Love is so huge that you can only dream about it,’ she said before falling asleep   Perhaps she was already asleep   But once in awhile it happens It succeeded an hour ago, when Prague disappeared in the sound of the tremendous passion that gushed from their throats, a choral masterpiece, so tender and brutal A sacred place and a spellbinding music Now reverberating between them   He lights another lousy Czech cigarette, trying to get the feeling out of his chest: that this might last forever   She, lying on the sheets, he, leaning against the wall, naked for each other, all the way to the bones   It’s taken a long time, and he had sworn it was impossible That he would let someone in where he himself doesn’t know what’s there; that someone like her would open up to him,

Contributor

November 2017

Helen Charman

Contributor

November 2017

Helen Charman is a writer and academic based in Glasgow. Her first book, Mother State – a political history...

Essay

May 2020

Where do I put myself, if public life’s destroyed? On reading Denise Riley

Helen Charman

Essay

May 2020

How do you read someone who doesn’t always want to be read? This is a question I used to...

Sally Rooney’s ‘Normal People’

Book Review

October 2018

Helen Charman

Book Review

October 2018

Reading Sally Rooney’s second novel Normal People is a compulsive experience. After the navy blue Faber & Faber proofs were sent out in early...
Rendering intimacy impossible, deploy lifeboats (mark yourself safe) Not listening as such, more waiting to speak, above all mark yourself, it’s so important to be safe Carry on, they demand, we’re not reeling / we are reeling Is this the place for a fountain reference? Probably ‘What first attracted you to your wife, sir?’ ‘Her delicacy / her ankles / her hatred of the Tories’                  Alive twice over but that’s a whole life gone too                you know I’m sorry, he holds his hands up, I’m                sorry, he backs away: my conscience couldn’t                keep company with your body I say, your body?                it just made me think: it’s only a nine month stay   The next time you lay a hand on me, I’ll make a perfect gleaming dive into the Thames Aren’t you glad / to be here? I am
Electioneering

Prize Entry

November 2017

Helen Charman


READ NEXT

fiction

July 2013

univers, univers

Régis Jauffret

TR. Jeffrey Zuckerman

fiction

July 2013

I. You remember your childhood. Your tow-headed, reddish-tinged mother, who yelled after you all day like a Paraguayan peasant...

feature

May 2017

The Pilgrims

Rachel Aydt

feature

May 2017

ST. JOAN The great actress Renée Jeanne Falconetti stands trial for heresy, a woeful story told with her eyes...

fiction

October 2013

Last Supper in Seduction City

Álvaro Enrigue

TR. Brendan Riley

fiction

October 2013

 ‘. . . and the siege dissolved to peace, and the horsemen all rode down in sight of the...

 

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