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Amber Husain

Amber Husain is a writer, academic and publisher. She is currently a managing editor and research fellow at Afterall, Central Saint Martins. Her essays and criticism appear or are forthcoming in 3AM, The Believer, London Review of Books, LA Review of Books, Radical Philosophy and elsewhere. She is the author of Replace Me, to be published by Peninsula Press in November 2021.



Articles Available Online


Slouching Towards Death

Book Review

July 2021

Amber Husain

Book Review

July 2021

In January, a preview excerpt in The New Yorker of Rachel Kushner’s essay collection The Hard Crowd (2021) warned us that this might turn...

Book Review

August 2020

Natasha Stagg’s ‘Sleeveless’

Amber Husain

Book Review

August 2020

‘The thong is centimetres closer to areas of arousal,’ writes Natasha Stagg in Sleeveless: Fashion, Image, Media, New York,...

– I’m down maybe five feet I take a moment to thank the leaf-filled rectangle of sky, and with the muslin settled over my mouth and nose I yank on the tarpaulin and the black mound falls Then I pull the tarp out from under the covering layer, scrunch it down my side, and delicious hunks and crumbles of dug earth say: welcome   I allow a last minute of earthly thought and congratulate myself on this ingenious arrangement The spot in the forest, far from anywhere The tarp and the spade The digging – a long hole, deep enough to work, deep enough to be right – and the piling of the soil on the tarp with a good strip hanging over the edge of the hole for easy tugging The hurried discard of clothes, my body a chilly worm Turns out it starts to get warm quite soon as you go down; a reminder you’re entering a living being   Here’s the idea, which you’ll agree is simple and elegant: stay here, breathing with care, and make a long, long count to five in the glorious black See what happens At some point my wish will come true and I’ll bud; a tendril will burst from me and wrap me into the world From my flat edges, roundness   After a while it will be time to push up and out into the mossy night Ejected from under the skin of the world, I’ll be real again, greener, humming with mitochondria A twig in the nest, a bee in the hive, a member of the family, a body in a body-shaped space –   No three toadstools/porn-fae yet that day, but from spin to spin I’d got a decent number of gnarled oaks coming up on paylines Even one five of a kind Only Qs, but those five Qs brought me even I’d had a celebratory drink at that point I’d had a celebratory jelly snake from the top desk drawer I noted rhythmic splashes coming from outside, so I bent and twisted to raise the blind for a little dose   From the

Contributor

November 2018

Amber Husain

Contributor

November 2018

Amber Husain is a writer, academic and publisher. She is currently a managing editor and research fellow at Afterall,...

On Having No Skin: Nan Goldin’s Sirens

Art Review

January 2020

Amber Husain

Art Review

January 2020

The feeling of drug-induced euphoria could be strips of gauze between beautiful fingers. Or a silver slinky sent down a torso by its own...
In Defence of Dead Women

Essay

November 2018

Amber Husain

Essay

November 2018

The memorial for the artist was as inconclusive as her work, or anybody’s life. Organised haphazardly on Facebook by one of her old friends,...

READ NEXT

poetry

July 2012

Poem for the Sightless Man (After Kate Clanchy)

Abigail Nelson

poetry

July 2012

This is just to say,   that the inked glasses that you wear look like the sound of shop...

feature

February 2015

A Closer Joan

Shawn Wen

feature

February 2015

Here are a few of the Joans I know. The girl who arrives at Port Authority Bus Terminal in...

Prize Entry

April 2017

Pylons

David Isaacs

Prize Entry

April 2017

Once upon a time, Dad would begin, I think, focusing on the road, there was a man called Watt....

 

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