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Orlando Reade

Orlando Reade is writing a Ph.D. on English poetry and cosmology in the seventeenth century. His interview with Lynette Yiadom-Boakye can be read in The White Review No. 13.



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Wildness of the Day

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December 2016

Orlando Reade

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December 2016

One day in late 2011, waiting outside Green Park station, my gaze was drawn to an unexpected sight. Earlier that year a canopy of...

Interview

Issue No. 13

Lynette Yiadom-Boakye

Orlando Reade

Interview

Issue No. 13

Modern philosophy is threatened by love, whose objects are never only objects. Philosophers have discovered in love a lived...

It’s Sunday, after lunch The sun hovers, full up The houses – the tarmac, the lampposts, the cars in the driveways – glitter in the heat Everyone is inside, or at the back, in pools of velveteen shade The sun pervades, making everyone sleepy Cold, numbing drinks A little snooze later Prepare for Monday Recharge The wood cladding on these houses absorbs the heat, keeps the houses cool It’s Nordic, the developers had said, cool in summer warm in winter It was ingenious to build on this land, which had been previously impossible to develop Low ground, near to the ancient waterways, prone to flooding Amazing technology The houses sit like rows of teeth in the landscape, a yawning, half-smile that trails off, giving way to pasture and, beyond that, the marshes The fields roll out for miles, sinking lower towards the horizon Beyond, barely visible through the haze that rises from the marshland, the shape of an island     A woman stands at the sink, rinsing plates, putting them into the dishwasher Crumbs on the table, half-empty glasses with fingerprints, smears of gravy The woman’s eyes itch with tears The family have gone to their rooms When the dishes are all rinsed and stacked and the table wiped, the woman goes out to the garage There’s a naked man in there, wrapped in plastic He’s not dead He’s not alive either    *   I mean you no harm I promise You know that, don’t you? I wouldn’t hurt you I couldn’t, even if I wanted to Which I don’t I am here to help you I am here to make your life easier I want your life to be easier I want you to be happy I want you to relax and be happy If you like, we can get in the car and take a drive We’ve got the whole day and I’m here for you I’m here to do whatever it is that you want to do I know, I know, it’s strange, isn’t it? It’s probably going to take some getting used to But I’m

Contributor

August 2014

Orlando Reade

Contributor

August 2014

Orlando Reade is writing a Ph.D. on English poetry and cosmology in the seventeenth century. His interview with Lynette...

Life outside the Manet Paradise Resort : On the paintings of Lynette Yiadom-Boakye

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November 2012

Orlando Reade

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November 2012

*   A person is represented, sitting in what appears to be the banal and conventional pose of a high street studio portrait photographer:...

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fiction

November 2015

Three Days in Prague

Naja Marie Aidt

TR. Denise Newman

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November 2015

A sparkling frost-clear landscape exists between them under a soft and smudged sky. Irises exist, blue and yellow, and...

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September 2013

Outside the Uniform

Kaya Genç

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September 2013

I.   The first time I had to wear a uniform I looked like a madman struggling against a...

fiction

September 2014

The Fringe of Reality

Antoine Volodine

TR. Jeffrey Zuckerman

fiction

September 2014

Many thanks to those who have allowed me to speak; now I’ll do so.   I’m actually not talking...

 

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