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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...

Ten minutes before the floodwaters arrived, Pak Prawiro died Who knows to where his soul sped off Now only his body remained by his cramped house Stretched out as though he were just sleeping Not a single soul appeared saddened by his death You have to understand, no one knew Pak Prawiro’s origins and background   Five minutes before the floodwaters arrived, a neighbour found Pak Prawiro sprawled on the ground in the cassava patch next to his house ‘Pak Prawiro fainted,’ he said to himself, before enlisting the help of another neighbor in carrying Pak Prawiro into his house ‘He’s dead,’ said yet another neighbour ‘Just check his pulse’   Sure enough, he had no pulse, his heart had stopped pumping, and his body had grown cold They laid Pak Prawiro down on the couch and covered him with a sheet, as if he were napping Someone tied a white cloth around his head so his mouth wouldn’t hang open Another closed his eyes   One minute before the floodwaters arrived, someone shouted ‘Look, the river has reached the top of the embankment!’   ‘Relax,’ another answered, ‘It never floods here The farthest it’s come is up to the road’   No one was thinking it might flood The housing complex had been built seven years ago and the river had never spilled over its banks and flooded They were still in the deceased’s house, wanting to do something for Pak Prawiro, but there was nothing else to be done   ‘The owners of the house will be back soon anyway,’ someone said   Sunset arrived The dusk sky was coloured by bright streaks of orange Office workers were heading home, passing through the neighbourhood gate one by one A yellow paper banner on a pole was fixed in front of Pak Prawiro’s house But people just kept walking by   ‘I’ll go back later,’ they thought, ‘now I’m just too tired’   To be sure, all the neighbours lived together peacefully without disturbing each another but it seemed they didn’t know one other either How could anyone know Pak Prawiro? He was just an elderly man who never talked about himself He could have been 60,

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

feature

April 2017

The White Review Short Story Prize 2017 Shortlist (US & Canada)

feature

April 2017

click on the title to read the story   1,040 MPH by Alexander Slotnick   Abu One-Eye by Rav...

fiction

September 2013

Seiobo There Below

László Krasznahorkai

TR. Ottilie Mulzet

fiction

September 2013

1 KAMO-HUNTER Everything around it moves, as if just this one time and one time only, as if the...

Art

October 2014

For the Motherboard

Vanessa Hodgkinson

James Bridle

Art

October 2014

Please click on the links below to download, print and assemble (instructions in slideshow above) Vanessa Hodgkinson’s For the Motherboard:...

 

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