The Things We Never Say
A history teacher plans his death in private, undone by a disclosure that rewrites the marriage behind it.
A disciplined archive of reading and reflection
A history teacher plans his death in private, undone by a disclosure that rewrites the marriage behind it.
Two accounts of the same fifteen years, measuring what one woman inherits against what the other improvises across the road.
A young man bankrolls a buffalo hunt to find himself in nature, and finds a machine that pays nobody.
A failed actor paid to sit in a leather bag, drawing more notice hidden than his face ever earned.
Violence taken up as courtship in West Dublin, turning every order from a lover into a form of love.
A woman's murder narrated as folklore, exposing the contempt that made her killable long before anyone raised a knife.
A disgraced professor's self-knowledge restaged as evidence, ending in a shape borrowed from every story about men like him.
An archaeologist's report passed off as ethnography, compiling a whole society out of one man's failure to tell people apart.
Prison sentences spoken as university degrees, returning each political abstraction to the people required to live inside it.
An essay about what follows an act of violence, and Marlon James’s forthcoming The Disappearers.
Political injury reassigned as private failure, each record altered before it can testify, until only the safer account survives in print.
A colleague's fear read as desire, alternating narration turning workplace access into administratively easy pursuit.