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Izabella Scott

IZABELLA SCOTT is an editor at The White Review.



Articles Available Online


Shola von Reinhold’s ‘LOTE’

Book Review

September 2020

Izabella Scott

Book Review

September 2020

To read Shola von Reinhold’s ornate, multi-layered novel LOTE (2020) is to encounter a baroque mind. It tells the story of a queer Black...

Art Review

November 2019

Actually, the Dead are Not Dead

Izabella Scott

Art Review

November 2019

During Bergen Assembly’s opening days, I am asked to attend a number of mock funerals, including one for a...

Mary Gaitskill’s fiction is full of cats – stray kittens wandering in and out of people’s lives, little white cats seen briefly from the window of a passing car, cats remembered from childhood, cats that never really existed but who are summoned up in conversation as a way for characters to find something to say to one another Women and children are often compared to cats, in her stories Men are too, although if a man is closely associated with an animal in a Gaitskill story, that animal is more likely to be a dog or a horse (a notable exception is the overconfident academic in ‘Stuff’, who the narrator describes as having ‘gone to seed in the manner of an old cat who knows where to find the food dish’)   Cats are everywhere in Gaitskill’s work, once you start looking for them In ‘Because they wanted to’, the title story from the 1997 collection recently reissued by Penguin, a girl named Elise finds herself babysitting three small children whose mother might just have abandoned them The story is told almost entirely from Elise’s point of view: she is something of a lost cat herself, too dazed by her own precarious circumstances to be able to successfully evaluate the circumstances of others, or really even to notice them She sees the ad for a babysitter on a noticeboard at the STD clinic (it’s written on notepaper printed with pictures of cats), and takes on the job, despite having no experience with children and no guarantee that she’ll get paid Elise has run away from home, or at least wandered away from it, and the babysitting job seems at first like some sort of solution – a way of being less lost, of being part of someone else’s team It’s not really like that though The mother and her children are just as lost as she is; like Elise, they’ve run out of the glue that holds an ordinary life together   Struggling to find something to say to the children, who are scared and confused and already wondering when their mother will

Contributor

September 2015

Izabella Scott

Contributor

September 2015

IZABELLA SCOTT is an editor at The White Review.

Book Review

August 2019

Jordy Rosenberg’s ‘Confessions of the Fox’

Izabella Scott

Book Review

August 2019

It’s hot as fuck, said the friend who handed me Confessions of the Fox, a faux-memoir set in eighteenth-century...

Navine G. Khan-Dossos, Echo Chamber

Art Review

November 2017

Izabella Scott

Art Review

November 2017

A lattice of diamonds and crosses, painted onto a 21-metre long wall at the Van Abbemuseum in Eindhoven, scatters my gaze. Artist Navine G....
Hot Rocks

feature

November 2016

Izabella Scott

feature

November 2016

‘We have received around 150 of them,’ Massimo Osanna tells me, as we peer into four small crates stuffed full of dusty freezer bags....
False shadows

Art

August 2016

Izabella Scott

Art

August 2016

The ‘beautiful disorder’ of the Forbidden City and the Yuanmingyuan (Garden of Perfection and Light) was first noted by the Jesuit painter Jean Denis...

READ NEXT

poetry

January 2015

dear angélica

Angélica Freitas

TR. Hilary Kaplan

poetry

January 2015

dear angélica   dear angélica I can’t make it I got stuck in the elevator between the ninth and...

poetry

June 2013

Major Organs

Melissa Lee-Houghton

poetry

June 2013

When they take my brain out of its casing it will be fluorescent and the mortuary assistant will have...

Prize Entry

April 2015

Les Archives du Coeur

Paul McQuade

Prize Entry

April 2015

The bike wheels skit and bounce on the loose dirt path. The smell of hot rubber and the smell...

 

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