'Judyth Emanuel’s Yeh Hell Ow (Adelaide Books, 2019) is a work of suburban (high) modernism, a successor to Joyce, or Woolf and worthy contemporary of Eimear McBride and Claire Louise Bennett, transplanted into tropical suburbs and surgically given a new tongue. It is a novel that plays on the unsteady, even drunken relationship between sound and meaning (and colour: yeh hell ow…), and the equally unstable relationship between what we think and what we say.' (Introduction)
'I’ve felt sad about a lot of things this year, and Gucci’s broken front window doesn’t make the list.
'Just over two weeks ago, protests in Turin, where I live, briefly provided the kind of images that travel internationally: fireworks, smoke bombs, a little tear gas. In one shot, there was a burning pile of the shared electric scooters that have become as ubiquitous as face masks lately. Groups of cops shuffled along in shields and helmets, circled by the smoke. As Italy slides into another lockdown, as the second wave of coronavirus infections crashes over Europe, there is no disputing that the mood is different. But to describe the protests as uniformly ‘anti-lockdown’ would be a simplification.' (Introduction)
