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Victoria Adukwei Bulley
VICTORIA ADUKWEI BULLEY is a poet, writer and filmmaker. She is the recipient of an Eric Gregory Award, and has held artistic residencies internationally in the US, Brazil and at the V&A Museum in London. A Complete Works and Instituto Sacatar fellow, her pamphlet Girl B (Akashic) forms part of the 2017 New-Generation African Poets series. She is a doctoral student at Royal Holloway, University of London, where she is the recipient of a Technē studentship for doctoral research in Creative Writing.

Articles Available Online


On Water

Essay

Issue No. 29

Victoria Adukwei Bulley

Essay

Issue No. 29

& we say to her what have you done with our kin that you swallowed? & she says that was ages ago, you’ve drunk...

Interview

Issue No. 26

Interview with Saidiya Hartman

Victoria Adukwei Bulley

Interview

Issue No. 26

The first time I encountered Saidiya Hartman, she was a voice in salt., an award-winning play by artist and...

I am beginning to realise that taking the self out of our essays is a form of repression Taking the self out feels like obeying a gag order – pretending an objectivity where there is nothing objective about the experience of confronting and engaging with and swooning over literature The comments on Frances Farmer Is My Sister and allied blogs that have built sometimes to this glorious other text, this communion, this conversation, this casual liquidness, the superlative nature, that is generative and affirming as opposed to dismissive, that uses our own language instead of theirs And when I think about so much of the writing happening online, I think about the notebook form, and especially what Hardwick performs in Sleepless Nights, the drifting anecodotes mixing real-life characters with literary references, this tapestry Also: Joan Didion’s The White Album, Renata Adler’s mosaic Speedboat Elizabeth Hardwick was inspired especially by Speedboat for her Sleepless Nights – both scrapbooks that are kaleidoscopic, anecdotal, self-aware, witty, and intensely nostalgic Both women who previously needed to rely on the objectivity of the critic {Adler with film, Hardwick with literature}, but in their nonfiction novels they write the self, their experiences In Sleepless Nights, Hardwick critiques what has been historically considered worthwhile material for a novel: ‘It certainly hasn’t the drama of: I saw the old, white-bearded frigate motion on the dock and signed up for the journey But after all, “I” am a woman’ Sleepless Nights shows a mind, a library at work, an old woman surrounded by her books All these experiments being written online-notes for projects never written, resembling sketches from Camus’s notebooks, experiments in the epistolary, the fragmented, this casual, cultural criticism, some of it in the comments It is all ephemeral, not wanting to be formalised I am beginning to think of this note-taking as the project itself Bhanu Kapil dismantling the novel in her Notes on Ban, notes for a character and a work that stands in for the work itself, some of these she writes online, in the

Contributor

October 2018

Victoria Adukwei Bulley

Contributor

October 2018

VICTORIA ADUKWEI BULLEY is a poet, writer and filmmaker. She is the recipient of an Eric Gregory Award, and...

Nafissa Thompson-Spires’s ‘Heads of the Colored People’

Book Review

October 2018

Victoria Adukwei Bulley

Book Review

October 2018

Somewhere on the internet is a two-hour video of a lecture by the late writer and filmmaker Kathleen Collins, author of the short story...

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feature

September 2013

To Sing the Love of Danger

Adnan Sarwar

feature

September 2013

The Gulf War made my first year at Towneley High School uncomfortable. White lads taunted us Pakistanis with pictures...

Interview

May 2012

Interview with Jonathan Safran Foer

Jacques Testard

Interview

May 2012

Much has been written about the precocity and talent of Jonathan Safran Foer, whose debut novel Everything is Illuminated...

fiction

June 2016

Beast

Paul Kingsnorth

fiction

June 2016

I stood in the river up to my knees and the river was cold. The water filled my boots...

 

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