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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...

The woman in Graham Little’s Untitled (Mother and Baby) (2019) sits in a bathroom of stone curves and oblong cavities Behind her the view is impeccable: the sea a nacreous blend that accumulates in the sky, save frail crests of distant mountains Pull back, and the room is sterile and tepid A tall Emile Gallé vase hosts white lilies, a plump hobnail glass bottle rests beside a peacock blue decanter Think patchouli, invoke mimosa The bath is drawn; the water waits The shower pipe of chrome tips its heron-esque neck Smiling in her kingfisher blue gown she cradles her clothed babe, her nipple, untouched, only just bare enough for suckling   Little’s immaculate and labour intensive works, on show at Alison Jacques Gallery, take months to complete Each composition emanates a weird, soporific ache Little says of his paintings of women: ‘for a while I can be the woman in that world … I think that’s why they’re all so well honed; I completely immerse myself in that dream’ Undoubtedly, it is a specific kind of woman in a specific world: as perfected and marvelled at as a Fabergé egg This dream evolved during his upbringing in Dundee, when the ravishing chiffons, innocuous gazes and orchidaceous faces of fashion photography enraptured his mind Around 2000, he began rendering photographs from pages of Vogue, Harper’s Bazaar, and mid-1970-80s issues of Burda Moden, first in pencil and later in a mix of pencil and gouache Since then, Little’s paintings have matured into their own independent realities, though they retain the nostalgic style of pre-Raphaelite daze and editorial torpor Distinct as lockets yet seductive as voids, all are masterly examples of perfumed paralysis   In Untitled (Wood) (2019), three young women lounge in grass near a fern-strewn wood Here, time is modulated Each figure belongs to their own era, shown in profile so their alternate perspectives never meet The girl on the right in a 1970s buttercup knit holds a recorder, in allusion to folk traditions popular during the period The middle girl clasps her basket of reaped possessions: conkers, blackberries, heaps of hazelnuts, navy and

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

Issue No. 18

Don't Give Up the Fight

Osama Alomar

TR. C. J. Collins

fiction

Issue No. 18

  DON’T GIVE UP THE FIGHT   While cavorting in a field, the wild horse felt overjoyed to see...

feature

November 2014

Every Night is Like a Disco: Iraq 2003

Paul Currion

feature

November 2014

That day at Kassim’s, there was no music. There was almost no sound at all, not even the echoes...

poetry

March 2017

Two Poems

Uljana Wolf

TR. Sophie Seita

poetry

March 2017

Mittens   winter came, stretched its frames, wove misty threads into the damp   wood. fogged windows, we didn’t...

 

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