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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...

‘Each morning in every family, men, women and children, if they have nothing better to do, tell each other their dreams We are all at the mercy of the dream and we owe it to ourselves to submit its power to the waking state’ – La Révolution surréaliste, No 1, December 1924 ALPES-MARITIMES, FRANCE July 1994 A Mountain Road Midnight When Kitty Finch took her hand off the steering wheel and told him she loved him, he no longer knew if she was threat­ening him or having a conversation Her silk dress was falling off her shoulders as she bent over the steering wheel A rabbit ran across the road and the car swerved He heard himself say, ‘Why don’t you pack a rucksack and see the poppy fields in Pakistan like you said you wanted to?’ ‘Yes,’ she said He could smell petrol Her hands swooped over the steering wheel like the seagulls they had counted from their room in the Hotel Negresco two hours ago She asked him to open his window so she could hear the insects calling to each other in the forest He wound down the window and asked her, gently, to keep her eyes on the road   ‘Yes,’ she said again, her eyes now back on the road And then she told him the nights were always ‘soft’ in the French Riviera The days were hard and smelt of money   He leaned his head out of the window and felt the cold mountain air sting his lips Early humans had once lived in this forest that was now a road They knew the past lived in rocks and trees and they knew desire made them awkward, mad, mysterious, messed up   To have been so intimate with Kitty Finch had been a pleasure, a pain, a shock, an experiment, but most of all it had been a mistake He asked her again to please, please, please drive him safely home to his wife and daughter   ‘Yes,’ she said ‘Life is only worth living because we hope it will

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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fiction

January 2017

Oh You

Keller Easterling

fiction

January 2017

You won’t be able to do it. It is a call, and it is something you only know how...

Art

October 2013

At the Tate Britain: Art Under Attack

Joe Moshenska

Art

October 2013

Iconoclasts have never known quite what to do with the ruined fragments that they leave behind. If we imagine...

Prize Entry

April 2015

Every Woman to the Rope

Joanna Quinn

Prize Entry

April 2015

My father believed the sea to be covetous: a pleading dog that would lap at you adoringly, sidling up...

 

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