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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...

THE KITE C 1755   One doctor of lightning, floating on his back down a river held his kite high, a sail in the sky of silk (B Franklin once let a kite tow him across a sizeable lake) Sail of wind and rain in diamond-shape at the end of which a child was, too, a kind of lightning sitting on the sill of a window or standing just inside a door will emit a luminous liquid, slightly viscous, which flashed an instant above the gathered crowd honing down into a long string that held a single hand well in place forcing the connected person to quickly learn the rigour that rules over such childish things once mixed with copper, oiled paper, and an impending storm     BENJAMIN FRANKLIN   used books, people, wires, and wax – it was really quite simple –   Franklin wandering lost between it all could nonetheless feel the tiniest sparkling parts alive inside the glass,   and of something given off deep within that somehow let Isaac Newton live Yet Franklin never quite met him and was left to make a meticulous record of the weather, the water, and the stars in the skies ajar from the deck of the ship heading home again, c 1725 It was he who first asserted that all electricity is a single thing and who solved the mystery of the Leyden jar   So, back to the books, the corks, and the wax, while the fresh water from a tea kettle came as a shock or maybe as a memory – a librarian in Latin opening the windows during thunderstorms so that all could read by the lightning     THE ELECTRIC FORTUNE-TELLER   made and marketed by Georg Heinrich Seiferheld, 1757-1818, was just one among a series of ghostly devices made of lights, buttons, boxes, and small Leyden jars all hidden in a miniature temple made of shook-foil shaken and in the hand, a book on which was written in sparks: “This darkness is permissible” So, off went

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

poetry

June 2013

Major Organs

Melissa Lee-Houghton

poetry

June 2013

When they take my brain out of its casing it will be fluorescent and the mortuary assistant will have...

poetry

September 2014

Breath-Manifester & Drones

Ned Denny

poetry

September 2014

Breath-Manifester   Each bared morning is a swell time to die, Leaving the town’s ornate maze for the level...

Interview

February 2011

Interview with David Vann

Marissa Cox

Interview

February 2011

I am a little apprehensive about meeting David Vann for the first time. His father committed suicide when David...

 

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