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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...

This vision was strongly nebulous, an indeterminate but bold reaction only because it was so much like one of my poems There I was one weekday night starring in a work of literature about gentlemen’s anarchy and artists and rapists and masculinity, and there I was later with my innocent questions, and then I was facing, yet again, an entire interrogative oeuvre about the self-suppression of undeserved esprit de coeur   This whole scene was like Picasso’s Blue Period, but the colour I was exploring was ‘wretched with indefinite longing’ I had grown tired of the auto-destruction of literature I didn’t want to erase my face from the coinage I had grown tired of all the metaphysical rumours and wanted to be away from the clatter of interiority, to be — in a new form — alone   I dreamed of a category containing those who are more beautiful, intelligent and virtuous than anyone else I had known This was a category into which I kept inserting the names of my friends I did not gaze admiringly or touch this category too much, and when I was out of its radius I became sick with a mysterious illness: I was tired, sad, my chest ached, I didn’t want to get out of bed I could think only of this category’s face, and was struck with the most intoxicating loneliness, like the loneliness of a person who has lost an organ   Later, on the phone, I said ‘This is so curious — it is like I have lovesickness without being in love with anyone,’ and the voice on the other end said, ‘Of course you are in love’ But how and with whom? It was painful to be lovesick without love, like a person who has quit her job but still stocks shelves in her dreams That’s when my suffering became an art project I was no longer a self-suppressioner, I had become a miserablist   Later I realised the state of lovesickness for a love that isn’t love and for no one in a fixed particular had lasted for some time I began to think its

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

August 2016

Boy With Frog

Kristin Posehn

fiction

August 2016

My first impression was of a tall building laid down for a nap, with all its parts nestled together...

Art

May 2016

Sharon Hayes

Edwina Attlee

Art

May 2016

Sharon Hayes’ In My Little Corner of the World, Anyone Would Love You at Studio Voltaire features a five-channel...

feature

Issue No. 11

Forgotten Sea

Alexander Christie-Miller

feature

Issue No. 11

I. As I stood on the flanks of the Kaçkar Mountains where they slope into the Black Sea near...

 

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