The Cult Of Water

Fifteen new poems form the fourth instalment in Dorothy Spencer’s See What Life Is Like poetry series. Newfound motherhood, pollution, tragedy and going fishing are all covered in a series of ethereal and eternal verses, told with acerbic wit.

East Pakistan, 1971. On their way to visit their mother, two sisters, Lucky and Jamila, are captured by Pakistani soldiers and thrown into a world of horror.

Locked in a room in an unknown village-turned-camp by the river, the women look through a lone barred window onto white jasmines blooming day and night. Meanwhile, around the camp, deadly guerrilla fighters from the Bengali Mukti Bahini gather to take back territory from the Pakistan Army.

As Bangladesh crowns painfully into the world, Lucky and Jamila must choose between heartbreak and secrecy to return from an unspoken violence.

Saima Begum is a British-Bangladeshi writer based in North London. She won the MFest Short Story Competition in 2021. The First Jasmines is her first novel.

The story of a meeting between a woman and a man linked by music for one night, in a nuptial dance of bodies and words doomed to failure: an ode to desire by the Franco-Moroccan poetess.

Rim Battal (born 1987 in Casablanca, lives and works between Paris and Rabat since 2012) is a French artist and poet.

Edited by Yasmina Naji.
Translated into Arabic by Abdelilah Khattabi.

In a time when looking into the past has become a socially unacceptable and illegal act in the Nation, a group of scholars are offered an attractive residency to allow them to pursue their projects. When the residency transpires to be a devastating trick, these Researchers go on the run, and soon discover that their projects all relate to one major event: the Isletese Disaster – the decline and subsequent devastation fifty years earlier of a long-forgotten roaming archipelago called The Islets.

One figure emerges as central to all of their work: Hester Heller, a reformed cult musiker turned student recruited from the Institute for Transmission as an agent of the state and tasked with gathering reconnaissance on the Disaster by using her old band Vehicle as a cover. Heller is the key to the Researchers collective story, which they try to piece together while evading their pursuers.

Compiled from the Researchers’ disparate documentation, recollections, and even their imaginations, Vehicle is a metafictional work of literary speculative fiction, and a timely and daring exploration of xenophobia, exploitation, the writing of histories and legacies, and the politics of translation.

In her darkly funny 1985 take on Dante’s Divine Comedy, acclaimed French writer and activist Monique Wittig restages the journey through the circles of hell, limbo, paradise from a lesbian feminist perspective. 

Never-before published in the US, Across the Acheron follows the adventures of “Wittig” and her anti-Virgilian guide through laundromats, billiard parlors, dyke bars, and picnic grounds of a 1980s San Francisco populated by hunters and their prey, lost souls, and fantastical beasts, including a robotic eagle and angelic bikers. Wittig reimagines Dante’s epic poem through a feminist and queer lens, subverting his cosmological order and upending gender identities and literary traditions. This edition brings the English translation of Wittig’s final novel back into print for the first time since the early-1990s, revised according to the author's notes, and with a new introduction by Sophie Lewis.

“Across the Acheron is a work of lesbian struggle and triumph across two kinds of hell. The hell of the classic western literary canon—and the hell of San Francisco. Monique Wittig brings all of her writerly powers and political experience to bear here, as witness to the horrors of heterosexual patriarchy and also to the possibility of another world for another life. Her work is a rare combination of deeply felt materialism and radical linguistic freedom. If we're to have another world, we'll need to create another language. She knew that, and she lived it.” — McKenzie Wark

“Even in fiction Monique Wittig’s writing is critical, prescient, brilliant, satirical, searing, and way ahead of its time. I’m so glad this work is back in circulation to revisit and revel in.” — Pamela Sneed

“In this unendurable yet compelling journey through the circles of patriarchal hell, Wittig encounters hordes of tortured women who do not struggle against their oppressors. Their brainwashing is as difficult to witness as their bloodied flesh. Only through communal activism does the seeker’s soul becomes tough enough to enter Paradise, where bare-breasted angels dismount motorcycles and offer baskets of 'cherries, strawberries, raspberries, apricots, peaches, plums, tomatoes, avocados, green melons, cantaloupes, watermelons, lemons, pawpaws, pineapples and coconuts.’ The bounties of Across the Acheron are lush and many.” — Dodie Bellamy

“A Guernica of the human (feminist) condition, a blacker, bleaker, more vengeful Alice’s tea party, this is a novel as graphic as a painting, whose brilliance its translators have creditably preserved.” — Publishers Weekly

Introduction by Sophie Lewis
Translated by David Le Vay with Margaret Crosland

Insula est un roman d’anticipation aussi intime que spéculatif qui mêle autofiction, confession intime, esthétique queer, jeu vidéo, et une formidable vision apocalyptique du monde contemporain. Insula (île, en latin), c’est d’abord le nom d’un jeu clandestin de réalité augmentée d’un nouveau genre : il suffit d’ingérer une pilule stupéfiante et illégale pour accéder à la simulation. Théo, le narrateur, en apprend l’existence lors d’une fête de cruising queer, au sommet d’un immeuble désaffecté du centre de Londres, dans une atmosphère d’apocalypse. Un garçon s’effondre à ses pieds quelques minutes après avoir consommé la substance, et pleure des larmes de sperme. Mais Théo doit tout interrompre pour se rendre au chevet de son père mourant, dans un hôpital parisien. C’est le moment de la dernière nuit, du dernier souffle et des derniers aveux. Le mot insula revient, cette fois dans la bouche des médecins, pour désigner une partie flottante du cerveau ravagée par la maladie, comme une île qu’on a dans la tête. Alors que les médias annoncent la disparition de plusieurs personnes qui auraient pris une pilule d’insula, l’étau se resserre sur Théo qui se résout à son tour à prendre un cachet prohibé avec l’intuition que les avatars ne sont que des fantômes, et qu’il pourra ainsi retrouver son père dans l’autre monde.

Ce roman aux accents dantesques (vision d’un enfer digital qui n’est que le double du monde réel), entre vertige technologique et exploration du désir, est marqué par la pensée critique du réel et la pop culture (Final Fantasy, Kanye West). Il ouvre un univers parallèle pour raconter l’histoire d’une traversée intime, convoquer des époques, des territoires et des identités multiples, dans une seule et même histoire qui navigue entre témoignage et fantasme. Dystopie, histoire d’amour et de fantômes, enquête et cauchemar, Insula est un portail entre plusieurs dimensions, le vrai et le faux, le réel et le digital, la vie et la mort.