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Skye Arundhati Thomas
Skye Arundhati Thomas is co-editor of The White Review.

Articles Available Online


Interview with Bani Abidi

Interview

Issue No. 33

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Interview

Issue No. 33

In the three-minute short Mangoes (1999) by Berlin-based Pakistani artist Bani Abidi, two women sit next to each other on a white table, each with...

Art Review

February 2019

Simryn Gill, Soft Tissue

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Art Review

February 2019

I walked into Simryn Gill’s exhibition SOFT TISSUE at Jhaveri Contemporary on one of the worst days of an...

Two nights running I woke up with my heart going crazy The first time, as I lay there in the dark, I heard a group of guys outside They were running, shouting ‘Hurry!’ and ‘We’ll miss it!’ I wondered if I should do something, but I couldn’t hear any fighting or smashing glass I got up when they were all gone I kept my light off and parted my blind to look down   There was rubbish under the streetlamps There was a big rectangular bin, its lid open, and all around it was a rim of paper and plastic and leaves   It was August The slats of the blind left black dust on my hand   The next night foxes woke me I knew their swallowed barks but I’d never heard a racket like that before One night when I was really young, before we moved to the estate, our cat was in heat – my mother explained it to me carefully – and as I was closing my bedroom curtains I saw that the tree at the bottom of our yard was full of cats They were switching their tails as the light went down They were all staring, it seemed to me, at me They started up these boylike horny tom cries   I listened to the fox calls and wondered if that was the sort of thing going on If they were courting, in a city tree, or on the roof of a corrugated shed   There’s a park near my flat with a little playground in it, populated by friendly plastic animals One’s a fox, with bright red fur and a blue cap I imagined a bunch of real foxes circling that cartoony figure in the dark   I went and stood outside It was much colder than it should have been, like winter The foxes shut up Under a lamp was a noticeboard for the tenants’ association A torn sign about a coffee morning Recycling A meeting called by a social capital group called OBYOSS, about regeneration The name of one of their organisers was familiar   The playground wasn’t far I went past closed shops and

Contributor

February 2018

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Contributor

February 2018

Skye Arundhati Thomas is co-editor of The White Review.

Bani Abidi & Naeem Mohaiemen, I wish to let you fall out of my hands (Chapter 1)

Art Review

February 2018

Skye Arundhati Thomas

Art Review

February 2018

Loneliness is mostly narrative. It also has an aesthetic: an empty tableau in which the lonely act is performed. In Naeem Mohaiemen’s Tripoli Cancelled...
The characters in We That Are Young reside at ‘The Farm’ – a sprawling house in New Delhi complete with its own topiary of fat peacocks, bulbous pink flowers with English names, Fendi furniture, and a room in which it snows at the press of a button It’s not far removed from reality – Antilla, the world’s first billion-dollar residence for a single family of four, is a 40-storey building that towers over the suburbs of South Mumbai, replete with a staff of over 600 people, its own electrical power grid, ten-storey parking for a collection of unusable vintage cars, and a room, of course, where it snows on demand In dialogue with Shakespeare’s King Lear, Taneja’s debut novel explores the lives of a family that owns a multinational conglomerate, ‘The Company’, to which each character’s fate (and inheritance) is inextricably tied We have our patriarch, the Lear figure, Devraj; his three daughters Sita, Radha and Gargi; and his right-hand man Ranjit’s two sons, Jeet and Jivan The embarrassment of riches makes for an irresistible, if outlandish, setting; Taneja vividly indulges our intrigue in the way the rich conduct their daily lives, letting her words ooze out their luxury – filthy, yet so desirable After a particularly gruesome scene in which Radha administers the plucking out of a man’s eyes, she steps back into her suite and calls for a pot of first flush Assam, and rose macaroons   A reinterpretation of Shakespeare is the perfect postcolonial conquest: he remains the epitome of the Western canon, patriarchal, and repeatedly failing to include representations of the ‘other’ without recourse to parody Mainstream appropriations of Shakespeare in South Asia, such as Bollywood filmmaker Vishal Bharadwaj’s trilogy Maqbool (Macbeth), Omkara (Othello), and Haider (Hamlet), have generally taken us to rural settings, wherein tragedy is relegated to a matter of the lower castes Taneja, a Shakespearean academic and human rights activist, eschews such stereotypes, and goes straight for the jugular: the innate hypocrisy of the Indian class and caste system ‘It’s not about land, it’s about money,’ states the first line of the book, taking
Preti Taneja’s ‘We That Are Young’

Book Review

October 2017

Skye Arundhati Thomas


READ NEXT

fiction

July 2012

Whatever Happened To Harold Absalon?

Simon Okotie

fiction

July 2012

1. The hotel lobby was both cleansed and fragrant, as was the receptionist speaking softly on the phone behind...

fiction

December 2013

A Lucky Man, One of the Luckiest

Katie Kitamura

fiction

December 2013

Will you take the garbage when you go out? My wife said this without turning from the sink where...

poetry

September 2011

The Moon over Timna

Rikudah Potash

TR. Michael Casper

poetry

September 2011

In a copper house Lived the new moon, The new moon Of Timna. In a copper coat With a...

 

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