Mailing List


Rose McLaren

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.



Articles Available Online


Talk Into My Bullet Hole

feature

July 2015

Rose McLaren

feature

July 2015

‘Someday people are going to read about you in a story or a poem. Will you describe yourself for those people?’ ‘Oh, I don’t...

feature

May 2014

Art Does Not Know a Beyond: On Karl Ove Knausgaard

Rose McLaren

feature

May 2014

Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle has an oddly medieval form: a cycle, composed of six auto-biographical books about the...

Marine Le Pen gets into town tonight That’s what I heard Did you hear, Marine Le Pen’s in D the 29th My reaction on hearing this was the reaction of a coma victim, but in the hours that ensued the fact had risen, put it that way, to my head (having already possessed a thigh, the both, an arm, the nape of the neck, little stiffer, the whole neck, the teeth and the jaw, nose by the nostrils because that’s another air you’re breathing now, temples, forehead, my ears, Marine Le Pen is on the ceiling, there she is, making herself at home having fixed up a little room with a bed for one, slipper chair, nightstand on which a Life of Georges Pompidou is resting, she’s switched out the overhead as it was slightly dated with its tulip bulb, she’s put up pink neon in the shape of a toucan and is enjoying a Twix bar while making an inspection of her lacquered toenails)    I don’t know her personally Let’s say that I don’t know her yet, because in a little while, in seven hours, I fully plan on heading up the avenue to see her; she’s supposed to be doing what it is she does on General De Gaulle Square, and so will we be doing our thing, in consequence, on General De Gaulle Square Whatever our intentions may be as we head up the avenue, we’ll all be there, we’ll be at least passing through General De Gaulle Square, whether preoccupied, nonchalant (hey, MLP in D) or focused and concentrated (that MLP is in D), and what I’m wondering is where she’ll touch down In front of the regional paper’s local branch? Because what we could do then would be throw open that glazed door, and the blow would be dealt to her back; or we could watch her out the window, pressing our foreheads against it, squishing our hands to make visors out of them and breathing out a grey cloud, the office being unheated (the temperature being three degrees Celsius) But she’s going to

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.

The Prosaic Sublime of Béla Tarr

feature

Issue No. 6

Rose McLaren

feature

Issue No. 6

I have to recognise it’s cosmical; the shit is cosmical. It’s not just social, it’s not just ontological, it’s really huge. And that’s why we...
Stalker, Writer or Professor? Geoff Dyer's Zona and Genre

feature

February 2012

Rose McLaren

feature

February 2012

‘So what kind of a writer am I, reduced to writing a summary of a film?’ wonders Geoff Dyer half way through Zona. Such...

READ NEXT

fiction

Issue No. 19

Once Sublime

Virginie Despentes

TR. Frank Wynne

fiction

Issue No. 19

The music is sick! This guy’s a genius. Always trust Gaëlle. When they first saw him, everyone thought who...

feature

Issue No. 17

Editorial

The Editors

feature

Issue No. 17

An Englishman, a Frenchman and an Irishman set up a magazine in London in 2010. This sounds like the...

poetry

June 2013

Belly

Melissa Lee-Houghton

poetry

June 2013

When I was fifteen I took my two little cousins into town and had them wait outside the tattoo...

 

Get our newsletter

 

* indicates required