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Orit Gat
Orit Gat is a writer living in London. She is a contributing editor of The White Review.


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On Marriage, Netflix, and Other Things I Hate

Book Review

June 2023

Orit Gat

Book Review

June 2023

1. ‘It’s kind of crazy to shop at Target, watch Netflix, drive a Honda, and still have a husband.’   Marriage falls into a...

Book Review

July 2022

It’s Personal: Writing and Reading Through Grief

Orit Gat

Book Review

July 2022

1. A spill  I’m drinking coffee in bed and reading The Reactor. I feel so close to everything Nick...

‘Labour is external to the worker, ie it does not belong to his essential being; that in his work, therefore, he does not affirm himself but denies himself, does not feel content but unhappy, does not develop freely his physical and mental energy but mortifies his body and ruins his mind The worker therefore only feels himself outside his work, and in his work feels outside himself He is at home when he is not working, and when he is working he is not at home His labour is therefore not voluntary but coerced; it is forced labour It is therefore not the satisfaction of a need; it is merely a means to satisfy needs external to it Its alien character emerges clearly in the fact that as soon as no physical or other compulsion exists, labour is shunned like the plague External labour, labour in which man alienates himself, is a labour of self-sacrifice, of mortification’— Karl Marx, The Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844   Observing the Progress of Time (1950)   Maximilian Sacheverell Hollingsworth wondered if he could dictate the entire course of his life on a single day After some deliberation, a process lasting the length of a Wednesday morning, he concluded that it was possible Suddenly, with no prior warning, it seemed to him a matter of some urgency to plan all of the details of his adulthood whilst he was still a young man Brimming with optimism, he hoped that it was simply necessary to decide what he most wanted to do and in which order Immediately he set to work upon the drafting of a plan   At noon he sat inside a public house in Bloomsbury This was a place populated only by solitary male drinkers, isolated men wearing ruffled coats and smoking pipes emitting circles of smoke that hovered and drifted in an unfurling cloud above their heads Grey sunlight dissolved into the dingy huddles of shadows thrown from the battered furnishings In studied silence the barmaid washed empty glasses and placed them in long neat rows along the dark mahogany shelves Maximilian

Contributor

August 2014

Orit Gat

Contributor

August 2014

Orit Gat is a writer living in London. She is a contributing editor of The White Review.

Essay

September 2020

Three Finals

Orit Gat

Essay

September 2020

1998   In the summer of 2006, at a bar off Odéon, a girl I didn’t know drew a...

Anna Wiener’s ‘Uncanny Valley’

Book Review

February 2020

Orit Gat

Book Review

February 2020

1. SF vs NY   Anna Wiener found herself in the right place at the right time. That is, if that was what she...
James Bridle’s ‘New Dark Age’

Book Review

October 2018

Orit Gat

Book Review

October 2018

Halfway through James Bridle’s foreboding, at times terrifying, but ultimately motivating account of our technological present, he recounts a scene from a magazine article...
Women and Technology: History is a Cautionary Tale

Book Review

April 2018

Orit Gat

Book Review

April 2018

Few book reviews open with amateur rap, but: ‘back in the day when new media was new,’ goes the first line of a song...
Scroll, Skim, Stare

feature

Issue No. 16

Orit Gat

feature

Issue No. 16

1.   This is an essay about contemporary art that includes no examples. It includes no examples because its subject – artists’ websites, their...
What Can an Art Magazine Be?

feature

Issue No. 10

Orit Gat

feature

Issue No. 10

What can an art magazine be? Today, as the publishing industry reassesses its role in the age of the internet, the pioneering art magazine Metronome provides...

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poetry

Issue No. 8

Thank You For Your Email

Jack Underwood

poetry

Issue No. 8

Two years ago I was walking up a mountain path having been told of excellent views from the summit....

poetry

November 2016

Nothing Old, Nothing, New, Nothing, Borrowed, Nothing Blue

Iphgenia Baal

poetry

November 2016

look at your kitchen look at your kitchen oh my god look at your kitchen it’s delightful only wait...

poetry

September 2011

Sleepwalking through the Mekong

Michael Earl Craig

poetry

September 2011

I have my hands out in front of me. I’m lightly patting down everything I come across. I somehow...

 

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