Mailing List


Amber Husain

Amber Husain is a writer, academic and publisher. She is currently a managing editor and research fellow at Afterall, Central Saint Martins. Her essays and criticism appear or are forthcoming in 3AM, The Believer, London Review of Books, LA Review of Books, Radical Philosophy and elsewhere. She is the author of Replace Me, to be published by Peninsula Press in November 2021.



Articles Available Online


Slouching Towards Death

Book Review

July 2021

Amber Husain

Book Review

July 2021

In January, a preview excerpt in The New Yorker of Rachel Kushner’s essay collection The Hard Crowd (2021) warned us that this might turn...

Book Review

August 2020

Natasha Stagg’s ‘Sleeveless’

Amber Husain

Book Review

August 2020

‘The thong is centimetres closer to areas of arousal,’ writes Natasha Stagg in Sleeveless: Fashion, Image, Media, New York,...

Note for the following three poems: In 1965, a bottlenose dolphin christened Peter was the subject of a scientific experiment For six weeks, he lived in a flooded apartment in the Virgin Islands with a woman named Margaret Howe, who was tasked with teaching him human language Needless to say, this was not successful     Margaret’s Visitor The doorbell never rings I still anticipate the TV sitcom bait-and-switch, the postboy’s shock as Peter concertinas through the water to the door, rotates the handle with his bottlenose and nabs the letter in his mouth, delivering a suave Midwestern ‘Thanks’ – and I descend, still fresh from six weeks in a Lurex bathing suit, to wait for his reply I see the postboy see the desk that hovers with its laminated paperwork, like the chrome cloud of an indifferent God; the hair I shaved to bring us closer tufting out, my black lips like a faded mime: and I see Peter, halfway human now, his eyes above the water sitting on his nose, easy as spectacles ‘Oh no,’ he says, ‘it’s no trouble at all,’ craning to sign, the pen between his teeth I’m by his side: a painting of two homesteaders leaning on leaf-nets as if they were farming tools A ball bobs in the background, childishly, but we have put such things away I ask him where he’d like our new delivery We watch the postboy stagger, fish-legged, down the street, his mouth a gasping blowhole     Fourth of July Of course he wouldn’t wear a hat Of course the soggy tickertape Of course this can of frosting in the dark, water-light softening its jagged edges, and for just a tick I seriously thought: what if I

Contributor

November 2018

Amber Husain

Contributor

November 2018

Amber Husain is a writer, academic and publisher. She is currently a managing editor and research fellow at Afterall,...

On Having No Skin: Nan Goldin’s Sirens

Art Review

January 2020

Amber Husain

Art Review

January 2020

The feeling of drug-induced euphoria could be strips of gauze between beautiful fingers. Or a silver slinky sent down a torso by its own...
In Defence of Dead Women

Essay

November 2018

Amber Husain

Essay

November 2018

The memorial for the artist was as inconclusive as her work, or anybody’s life. Organised haphazardly on Facebook by one of her old friends,...

READ NEXT

feature

Issue No. 7

Bracketing the World: Reading Poetry through Neuroscience

James Wilkes

feature

Issue No. 7

The anechoic chamber at University College London has the clutter of a space shared by many people: styrofoam cups,...

poetry

November 2014

Like Rabbits

Bethan Roberts

poetry

November 2014

When my husband unrolled the back door of the brewery’s lorry and hoisted first one cage, then another, onto...

poetry

April 2017

Two Poems

Fady Joudah

poetry

April 2017

EUROPA AND THE BULL   The boat was loaded on a truck. The truck took me to the border....

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required