Eley Williams’s collection Attrib. and Other Stories appeared earlier this year.
I don’t know which pronunciation either but will trust an advert that chooses semicolons over em dashes, little Basil Bunting beards in favour of shattered thistledown’s propellers. Language as capillary action rising through a sugar cube, growing heavy, placed on the tongue –
this is easier to explain in pidgin pillowtalk, the link between grammar, glamour, grimoire,
As in dreams, Williams’s surrealism and sundry rabbit holes don’t need to violate the laws of physics to create distinctive, inviting worlds populated by exuberant eccentrics. A yawn, a laugh, an...
Before I embarked on Eley Williams, of whom I had read nothing and knew nothing, I flipped through Attrib., her first book of stories. Even on first flip, I got a sense of something I...
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