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Lauren Elkin
Lauren Elkin is most recently the author of No. 91/92: notes on a Parisian commute (Semiotext(e)/Fugitives) and the UK translator of Simone de Beauvoir's previously unpublished novel, The Inseparables (Vintage). Her previous book Flâneuse: Women Walk the City (Chatto/FSG) was a finalist for the PEN/Diamonstein-Spielvogel Award for the Art of the Essay, a New York Times Notable Book of 2017, and a BBC Radio 4 Book of the Week. Her essays have appeared in Granta, the London Review of Books, Harper’s, the New York Times, and Frieze, among others. Her next book, Art Monsters, will be out in July 2023 (Chatto/FSG). She lives in London.

Articles Available Online


Maria Gainza’s ‘Optic Nerve’

Book Review

May 2019

Lauren Elkin

Book Review

May 2019

In his foreword to A Thousand Plateaus, on the pleasures of philosophy, and of Deleuze and Guattari’s philosophy in particular, Brian Massumi writes:  ...

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Issue No. 8

Barking From the Margins: On écriture féminine

Lauren Elkin

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Issue No. 8

 I. Two moments in May May 2, 2011. The novelists Siri Hustvedt and Céline Curiol are giving a talk...

As Taggerston’s morning televised administrative work is winding down, the cast and crew of Lives of the Innocents accumulate at the studio and commence setting up for the afternoon shoot There’s only one television studio on the island, so they have to share A scene of film set banality ensues – crew setting up, large metallic objects and green screens on stilts moved to and fro, thick cables tripped over, groggy men cursing loudly into walkie-talkies and mobile phones, the bearded fox in the director’s seat making regal gestures next to the iPad-bearing female assistant, the scent of coffee and electricity, the whir of electric fans beneath the thin murmur of voices Lucia always arrives early to pick up the script, a sense of demonstrative duty The actors only have an hour to learn their lines before shooting starts Time to find out where Hornby is going today Krstal Mrdok brushes past her towards the coffeemaker   —Why Lucia, I have to say, that is the loveliest dress I ever saw you wear Did you get that around here? Or did you have someone make it for you?   It’s been around three years now since Krstal Mrdok was written into the show Actually she’s the first non-Sagosian, quasi-elite actress ever to appear on Lives of the Innocents since the show started some twenty-three years ago Her character arrived rather mysteriously, as Lives of the Innocents typically evades referring to real life events on the island, opting instead for a sort of idealized or fantasy version of Sagosian life It’s not even really Sagosia, more a fictionalized version of what used to be called Sagosia, named Port Matthews on the show – though the quasi-native audience can clearly recognize all the local referents, from the typical Sagosian accent to locales (on those occasions when they venture outside the studio to do outdoor shoots – something the producers generally frown upon since it requires extra expenditures, particularly given the unpredictability of the weather in the wet season)   One of those awkward moments – innumerable since Krstal first

Contributor

August 2014

Lauren Elkin

Contributor

August 2014

Lauren Elkin is most recently the author of No. 91/92: notes on a Parisian commute (Semiotext(e)/Fugitives) and the UK...

The End of Francophonie: The Politics of French Literature

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Issue No. 2

Lauren Elkin

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Issue No. 2

I. We were a couple of minutes late for the panel we’d hoped to attend. The doors were closed and there was a surly-looking...

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Art

June 2015

Sisterhood

Chelsea Hogue

Art

June 2015

A woman appears onscreen. Her hair is short. While the film is black and white, by the colour gradations...

Interview

July 2015

Interview with Sarah Manguso

Catherine Carberry

Interview

July 2015

There’s a certain barometer of a writer’s achievement that urban readers know well: did this book cause me to...

fiction

September 2011

Celesteville's Burning

Andrew Gallix

fiction

September 2011

            Zut, zut, zut, zut.             – Marcel Proust, A la recherche du temps...

 

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