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Rebecca Liu
Rebecca Liu is a commissioning editor at Guardian Saturday and a staff writer at Another Gaze.

Articles Available Online


There are only girls on the internet

Book Review

August 2022

Rebecca Liu

Book Review

August 2022

I remember the first time I saw it, like a freshly alert hare alarmed by movement in the distant grasslands. It was 2013. Model...

Book Review

September 2020

Pankaj Mishra’s ‘Bland Fanatics’

Rebecca Liu

Book Review

September 2020

The Anglo-American commentariat is full of lofty egos. Pankaj Mishra has developed a reputation as their great deflater. ‘Watch...

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

August 2019

Rebecca Liu

Contributor

August 2019

Rebecca Liu is a commissioning editor at Guardian Saturday and a staff writer at Another Gaze.

Jia Tolentino’s ‘Trick Mirror’

Book Review

August 2019

Rebecca Liu

Book Review

August 2019

Talk about the fates of young professional women today and you will often alight on two themes: the anxieties that come with living in...

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Issue No. 12

Foreword: A Pound of Flesh

George Szirtes

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Issue No. 12

1.   ANALOGIES FOR TRANSLATION ARE MANY, most of them assuming a definable something on one side of the...

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Issue No. 11

Climate Science

McKenzie Wark

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Issue No. 11

Welcome to the Anthropocene, that planetary tempo in which all the metabolic rhythms of the world start dancing to...

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September 2013

9/11 Emerging

Joseph McElroy

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September 2013

Others have it worse, have had, will always. ‘We,’ though, own the record now for largest building collapse.  ...

 

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