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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,...

The explosion happened one mid-morning at the Swan Custard Factory A dust-cloud of cornstarch was ignited, blowing off the roof of the building, injuring nine workers and killing one When the fire engines arrived, the water they used to put out the fire turned to custard when mixed with all the powder and heat It flowed down the neighbouring streets, where it was eaten by pigeons and little children who ran out after it with tea cups to fill    One unfortunate girl started to choke after drinking two cups of the liquid Her father pounded her stomach until she threw up two human teeth, a fingernail and a blue stud earring shaped like a butterfly These had belonged to Gloria-Jean Lewis, the one casualty of the explosion   The owner of the factory was Alfred Swan III, grandson of the original Alfred Swan, a pharmacist who had invented instant egg-free custard powder after his wife had an allergic reaction at a dinner party The original Alfred Swan and his wife were unsure which was the offending ingredient until she fainted and broke out in a rash a few days later after eating a boiled egg No one knew what had caused her to suddenly be unable to stomach eggs An untold part of the story, absent from the official histories of the custard company, is that she subsequently ate a whole jar of pickled eggs in an attempt to kill herself She was found by her husband beside the empty jar, and was sent to an institution where staff were given strict instructions not to feed her any eggs, or place any eggs in her surroundings   The custard powder made in Alfred Swan’s factory was simply cornstarch, yellow colouring and a little flavouring to make it look and taste a bit eggy The instructions suggested it could be mixed with either milk or water It was mainly sold in bulk to boarding schools where children were hit, and to little corner shops where it sat on dusty shelves, and was bought by old

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

fiction

Issue No. 1

Beyond the Horizon

Patrick Langley

fiction

Issue No. 1

Listen to the silence, let it ring on. (Joy Division, Transmission) I It is not yet dawn. The city...

Art

February 2014

Starting with a Bang: Hannah Höch and The First International Dada Fair

Daniel F. Herrmann

Art

February 2014

A spectre haunted the Lützow-Ufer – the spectre of Dadaism. It hung from the ceiling and peered down from the...

feature

June 2017

Oberhausen Film Festival

Tom Overton

feature

June 2017

Such film festivals – those extraordinary clusters of images, transports of light, of virtual worlds scattered across a real...

 

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