Skip to main content
Read page text
page 10
– FOREWORD – from which we selected a shortlist of twelve followed by five finalists and one winner. It was a highly harmonious and thought-provoking discussion, but there were dis­agreements. For what is an essay? Some of us felt it was an argument put forth and proven, or at least that a viable attempt to prove an ­argument had to be evident. Others saw it as more of an investigation, with little or no need for teleology. The writing had to matter, as did style, tone and purpose. The subject did not. What was obvious, though, was that no matter how much each of us clung to our particular set of criteria, we could always think of examples which were exceptional to the very principles we were clinging to, and this helpfully informed our conversation about the essays in front of us, which we judged according to their own merits rather than by a set of arbitrary guidelines. ‘In My Head I Carry My Own Zoo’ by Karen ­Holmberg is an expansive consideration of the work of British collagist John Digby. It’s a testament to ­Holmberg’s writing that I quickly went away and Googled Digby, taken by her descriptions of his art, which is no mean feat, but also the elusive portrait that she presents of Digby by weaving together her observations of him with his own words. ‘Grub: A Man in the Market’ by Garret Keizer is a personal essay about doing the weekly food shop. But of course the essay isn’t about that at all. ­Deceptively viii
page 11
– Rosalind Porter – simple in its methods, Keizer takes this quotidian chore and uses it as a platform to discuss all manner of things: capitalism, marriage and modernity, to name only three. Affectionate yet authoritative, this essay brilliantly captures the many moods of the form itself. In ‘The Future of Nostalgia: Orhan Pamuk and the Real Imaginary Museum’, Patrick McGuiness ­argues for the importance (and the usefulness) of nostalgia which, along with melancholy, morbidity and introspection (nostalgia’s ‘bandmates’) gets a bad rap for being solipsistic. But McGuiness, by way of Orhan ­Pamuk, shows us how a longing for the personal past can give us a stronger perspective on a communal ­future. Most of us didn’t know anything about ‘commonplace dachas’ in Russia until we read ‘Dacha’ by Dasha Shkurpela. With its uncertain meandering through the meanings of temporary and permanent summerhouses in the Russian countryside – its questioning and hesitating – this essay threw up strange and surprising links between trains of thought. As did ‘Losing the Nobel’ by Laura Esther ­Wolfson, another unapologetically personal essay which touches effortlessly on the mirage of regret without any hint of self-pity. It’s also a wonderful introduction to the work of Svetlana Alexievich, whose work I would urge anyone to read, and a superb meditation on translation and interpretation, and the nuanced differences between them. ix

– FOREWORD –

from which we selected a shortlist of twelve followed by five finalists and one winner. It was a highly harmonious and thought-provoking discussion, but there were dis­agreements. For what is an essay?

Some of us felt it was an argument put forth and proven, or at least that a viable attempt to prove an ­argument had to be evident. Others saw it as more of an investigation, with little or no need for teleology. The writing had to matter, as did style, tone and purpose. The subject did not.

What was obvious, though, was that no matter how much each of us clung to our particular set of criteria, we could always think of examples which were exceptional to the very principles we were clinging to, and this helpfully informed our conversation about the essays in front of us, which we judged according to their own merits rather than by a set of arbitrary guidelines.

‘In My Head I Carry My Own Zoo’ by Karen ­Holmberg is an expansive consideration of the work of British collagist John Digby. It’s a testament to ­Holmberg’s writing that I quickly went away and Googled Digby, taken by her descriptions of his art, which is no mean feat, but also the elusive portrait that she presents of Digby by weaving together her observations of him with his own words.

‘Grub: A Man in the Market’ by Garret Keizer is a personal essay about doing the weekly food shop. But of course the essay isn’t about that at all. ­Deceptively viii

My Bookmarks


Skip to main content