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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 first time I think I saw Robinson? I’d have to have been leaving Yucaipa He was on an old bike, a rusted, duct- taped contraption I imagine must’ve squeaked and rattled from a loose chain or dust in the brakes… but I keep the music up when I drive, so I can’t re-place the sound, I can’t say there was a clatter-and-drag, whether it proceeded him, or enshrined him like some moving castle of music; Robinson Lonewolf, can you see him? the mad conductor, a gypsy percussive, orchestrating a synchronized cloud of ratcheting ticks No, I didn’t see his face Why d’you ask?   –What do I say of him being faceless? I can say I’m pretty sure it was him I know you know the trick with car mirrors   The second time? Years later I was in Red Rock country, north of Vegas, just off the 15 I passed a sign that read: Valley of Fire, and, Lake Mead and I swear I saw Robinson leaned against it just like that cowboy’s silhouette you hit in  Laughlin The neon one on the border of Nevada and California— He raised his arm too, dipped his hat brim like that as I passed him   –I saw stubble on his jaw, a chain at his throat and half a smile of white teeth No No bags with him   –He must’ve been headed north to— seemed he was hitching my side of the road   Significance of seeing Robinson? Stupid question Like, what color’s the air? Who cares I just see him when I see him   Yeah That was a bad one Two years locked up, San Bernardino County Detention   No He wasn’t I drove the car alone   Then it must’ve been Orange County, at a light Yeah it was late, just past the industrial part of town, you know, where that factory sends those plumes into the sky and that new hotel offsets ‘em like a Breughel painting? Hunting- ton Beach Boulevard, off the PCH?   –I don’t know I think he was on deck or in one of those drum circles that spring up ‘organically,’ you know? I saw a crowd piled up around him… Think of Robinson with one of those little monkeys that begs for dollars and change! How funny that’d be Yeah, I know why I’m here You sure you do?   No I haven’t seen him in Yucaipa for years Since

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,...

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poetry

September 2011

First Blimp

Joshua Trotter

poetry

September 2011

Removing colour from my thoughts, I formed a winter ball. I threw it. The dead were uncounted. There was...

feature

Issue No. 19

Editorial

The Editors

feature

Issue No. 19

‘A crisis becomes a crisis when the white male body is affected,’ writes the philosopher Rosi Braidotti, interviewed in...

Interview

March 2017

Interview with Bae Suah

Deborah Smith

Bae Suah

Interview

March 2017

The Essayist’s Desk, published in 2003 and written when its author Bae Suah had just returned from an 11-month...

 

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