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David Isaacs
David Isaacs has recently completed a PhD about the ethics of rewriting at UCL. He is coming to the end of a first novel and is at the early stages of a new project about the present tense.


Articles Available Online


Interview with Namwali Serpell

Interview

December 2020

David Isaacs

Interview

December 2020

Namwali Serpell is a rarity: an academic and novelist whose criticism is as vital as her fiction. Since we first spoke, in September 2020,...

Book Review

June 2018

Christine Schutt’s ‘Pure Hollywood’

David Isaacs

Book Review

June 2018

There is a certain kind of American novelist of the late twentieth century whose fiction fetishises plant names. The...

Agata and I were both eleven years old when she first introduced me to her machine We were in all the same classes She was sallow and thin, with enormous hands and feet She wore her dark brown hair in a short bob, held back from her face with a plain, plastic barrette Her eyebrows weren’t thick, but they were long, stretching to her temples Her mouth was wide, but her lips were thin, with an expressiveness that reminded me of worms   She wasn’t tormented by our schoolmates and teachers, as I was The only student they treated worse than me was Large Barbara, who was so fat she walked with a cane, had one lazy eyeball, and a wart on her chin so long and thin it mocked the rest of her body Agata wasn’t teased or tormented because she was a genius She excelled in the sciences and maths, and could write beautiful, complex poems, though she only did so when it was a school assignment She often yawned and shook one of her legs in class; she finished her work before everyone else Some teachers let her read her own books, imported ones in foreign languages, full of complicated diagrams just as mysterious to the rest of us as the words   Though she wasn’t bullied, she also didn’t have any friends She seemed above such trivialities No one invited her to parties – it was impossible to imagine her at them She spent her lunch break reading She didn’t play or gossip She saw the other students as a nuisance, like flies or fleas Some tried to pay her to do their homework, but she responded with, ‘You think I don’t have better things to do?’ in a tone of voice that was arrogant, and delighted in its own arrogance, her worm mouth wiggling   Agata’s parents were poor because they had so many children, but they still bought her whatever she needed or desired so she could focus on her schoolwork: books, expensive pens, cigarettes Agata was the eldest, and the most promising of her siblings The rest were snivelly,

Contributor

August 2014

David Isaacs

Contributor

August 2014

David Isaacs has recently completed a PhD about the ethics of rewriting at UCL. He is coming to the end...

Prize Entry

April 2017

Pylons

David Isaacs

Prize Entry

April 2017

Once upon a time, Dad would begin, I think, focusing on the road, there was a man called Watt....

Seasickness

Prize Entry

April 2016

David Isaacs

Prize Entry

April 2016

‘How would you begin?’   She puts a finger to her lips, a little wrinkled still from the water, and hesitates. She says, ‘Maybe:...
How things are falling.

Prize Entry

April 2015

David Isaacs

Prize Entry

April 2015

i.   Oyster cards were first issued to members of the British public in July 2003; by June 2015 they will have been replaced...
by Accident

fiction

April 2014

David Isaacs

fiction

April 2014

[To be read aloud]   I want to begin – and I hope I don’t come across as autistic or anything like that (and...

READ NEXT

fiction

July 2014

Zone

Mathias Enard

TR. Charlotte Mandell

fiction

July 2014

I remember the day Andrija the invincible collapsed for the first time, the warrior of warriors whom we’d never...

poetry

May 2012

REGULAR BLACK

Sam Riviere

poetry

May 2012

Who wouldn’t rather be watching a film about werewolves instead of composing friends’ funeral playlists all day I’ve been...

feature

September 2014

The Mediatisation of Contemporary Writing

Nick Thurston

feature

September 2014

Trying to figure out what marks contemporary literature as contemporary is a deceptively complicated job because the concept of...

 

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