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Rose McLaren

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.



Articles Available Online


Talk Into My Bullet Hole

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July 2015

Rose McLaren

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July 2015

‘Someday people are going to read about you in a story or a poem. Will you describe yourself for those people?’ ‘Oh, I don’t...

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May 2014

Art Does Not Know a Beyond: On Karl Ove Knausgaard

Rose McLaren

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May 2014

Karl Ove Knausgaard’s My Struggle has an oddly medieval form: a cycle, composed of six auto-biographical books about the...

The explosion happened one mid-morning at the Swan Custard Factory A dust-cloud of cornstarch was ignited, blowing off the roof of the building, injuring nine workers and killing one When the fire engines arrived, the water they used to put out the fire turned to custard when mixed with all the powder and heat It flowed down the neighbouring streets, where it was eaten by pigeons and little children who ran out after it with tea cups to fill    One unfortunate girl started to choke after drinking two cups of the liquid Her father pounded her stomach until she threw up two human teeth, a fingernail and a blue stud earring shaped like a butterfly These had belonged to Gloria-Jean Lewis, the one casualty of the explosion   The owner of the factory was Alfred Swan III, grandson of the original Alfred Swan, a pharmacist who had invented instant egg-free custard powder after his wife had an allergic reaction at a dinner party The original Alfred Swan and his wife were unsure which was the offending ingredient until she fainted and broke out in a rash a few days later after eating a boiled egg No one knew what had caused her to suddenly be unable to stomach eggs An untold part of the story, absent from the official histories of the custard company, is that she subsequently ate a whole jar of pickled eggs in an attempt to kill herself She was found by her husband beside the empty jar, and was sent to an institution where staff were given strict instructions not to feed her any eggs, or place any eggs in her surroundings   The custard powder made in Alfred Swan’s factory was simply cornstarch, yellow colouring and a little flavouring to make it look and taste a bit eggy The instructions suggested it could be mixed with either milk or water It was mainly sold in bulk to boarding schools where children were hit, and to little corner shops where it sat on dusty shelves, and was bought by old

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren

Contributor

August 2014

Rose McLaren is an artist in London.

The Prosaic Sublime of Béla Tarr

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Issue No. 6

Rose McLaren

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Issue No. 6

I have to recognise it’s cosmical; the shit is cosmical. It’s not just social, it’s not just ontological, it’s really huge. And that’s why we...
Stalker, Writer or Professor? Geoff Dyer's Zona and Genre

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February 2012

Rose McLaren

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February 2012

‘So what kind of a writer am I, reduced to writing a summary of a film?’ wonders Geoff Dyer half way through Zona. Such...

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Prize Entry

April 2016

DATE NIGHT

Chris Newlove Horton

Prize Entry

April 2016

He said, ‘Tell me about yourself.’ He said, ‘Tell me about you.’ He said, ‘Tell me everything. I’m interested.’...

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November 2014

Every Night is Like a Disco: Iraq 2003

Paul Currion

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November 2014

That day at Kassim’s, there was no music. There was almost no sound at all, not even the echoes...

Interview

August 2016

Interview with Daniel Sinsel

Rosanna Mclaughlin

Interview

August 2016

In the decade after leaving Chelsea School of Art in 2002, Daniel Sinsel made a name for himself with...

 

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