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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...

– I’m down maybe five feet I take a moment to thank the leaf-filled rectangle of sky, and with the muslin settled over my mouth and nose I yank on the tarpaulin and the black mound falls Then I pull the tarp out from under the covering layer, scrunch it down my side, and delicious hunks and crumbles of dug earth say: welcome   I allow a last minute of earthly thought and congratulate myself on this ingenious arrangement The spot in the forest, far from anywhere The tarp and the spade The digging – a long hole, deep enough to work, deep enough to be right – and the piling of the soil on the tarp with a good strip hanging over the edge of the hole for easy tugging The hurried discard of clothes, my body a chilly worm Turns out it starts to get warm quite soon as you go down; a reminder you’re entering a living being   Here’s the idea, which you’ll agree is simple and elegant: stay here, breathing with care, and make a long, long count to five in the glorious black See what happens At some point my wish will come true and I’ll bud; a tendril will burst from me and wrap me into the world From my flat edges, roundness   After a while it will be time to push up and out into the mossy night Ejected from under the skin of the world, I’ll be real again, greener, humming with mitochondria A twig in the nest, a bee in the hive, a member of the family, a body in a body-shaped space –   No three toadstools/porn-fae yet that day, but from spin to spin I’d got a decent number of gnarled oaks coming up on paylines Even one five of a kind Only Qs, but those five Qs brought me even I’d had a celebratory drink at that point I’d had a celebratory jelly snake from the top desk drawer I noted rhythmic splashes coming from outside, so I bent and twisted to raise the blind for a little dose   From the

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:...

READ NEXT

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Issue No. 15

A Weekend With My Own Death

Gabriela Wiener

TR. Lucy Greaves

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Issue No. 15

We all have tombs from which we travel. To reach mine I have to get a lift with some...

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Issue No. 11

Forgotten Sea

Alexander Christie-Miller

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Issue No. 11

I. As I stood on the flanks of the Kaçkar Mountains where they slope into the Black Sea near...

fiction

January 2015

Adventures in Immediate...

Max Blecher

TR. Michael Henry Heim

fiction

January 2015

I can picture myself as a small child wearing a nightshirt that comes down to my heels. I am...

 

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