Discussion

Fascinating story, I would be keen to know if there are any tell-tale signs that a book is a pirated version. Do they have ISBN numbers for instance?

Wow, what an amazing writer. Brilliant, beautiful piece.

Topography of Essex.

Contrary to the impressions formed on the author's memory long ago, of the three seaside towns close by each other, Clacton, Frinton and Walton, the latter is the northernmost.

That was a really interesting read and very unique look at book piracy. It happens here in my country India too, but certainly not on the scale you've talked about here.

I just finished of read the article. I'm agree with the author, piracy is the biggest problem for books industry in Peru but I'd would love to get something more about to the kind of succes that the fairs are having. The last 3 or 4 years people here in Peru is getting more interested about books and that's good anyway. In addition, there's something that wasn't told in the article and is if editorial houses must have some kind of own iniciatives to fight against pirates. Let me make an example. In the last fair Ricardo Palma in Lima i bought a copy (original) of Alarcon's "Guerra en la penumbra" edited by HarperCollins for 12 soles (the same price of a pirate copy). The same book edited by Alfaguara was 35 soles. After the fair, I saw the book on book shops, the HarperCollin's was 20 and Alfaguara's 35. There's a big difference in the price and both were original books.

I think there's a chance to fight against piracy but is a real hard work. People buy pirate books because they're cheaper but what happen if the difference is just a 20% or 15%?

dear francesca,
i have greatly enjoyed reading this wonderful piece. i knew your father, erich, in 1970/71 when we were then dating. he was teaching at yale, and i was living in nyc. i have been mourning his loss since i heard of his passing just yesterday. he was a wonderful young man, and i have great memories of having shared many good times together....including a jewish holiday dinner at your grandparents' home here in nyc (your uncle was there i recall).
my father died when i was 18 and he was only 48. i miss him everyday. he grew up in brooklyn, but i doubt i would find him there, just as you were unable to.
please get in touch with me if you should care to. your dad and i lost touch after the early 70's, as we each went on to marry and start families.
i now have two daughters aged 21 and 14 and have been happily married for 30 years.
my email is michellemurphy@mac.com
my no. is 6312676828
please send my sincere and heartfelt condolences to your mother and to your sister.
with kindest regards,
michelle murphy (strada)

This article is quite annoying. Firstly, it might apply to near post-colonial days but very people who write about Africa actually do any of the things the author is parodying. Secondly, people often write about Asia as a whole, or Latin America as a whole.

I very much enjoyed this piece and the author's video discussion of his thoughts behind it. I just finished reading Macfarlane's THE WILD PLACES. It's a beautifully written book and a great example of the new type of nature book he described (travel/nature/literary/historical).

I was just browsing and looked at the photos.
Number 15 made an impression the one of the shopfront shutters. Reminded me of shop parades in Liverpool.
I know Liverpool well but not Netherley.
Enjoyed the article because it made me think of Netherton and Croxteth - two areas I know.
Also found the previous comment by Mikool fascinating

A knee slappingly good piece that accurately depicts the expatriate/foreign/non-black African perspectives, depictions and writings about Africa and things African. Excellent stuff Binyavanga!

In tenera fronda.

Al par del
sol che nel
chiarore avanza
rimembrando
l'infinito, e come
augello sconsolato
in ribalda cantilena,
odo mesto, al
primo accenno,
leggiadro il
passerotto, che
dalla via corrente
fugge dimorando
nei pensier.
Da soave mormorio
rinasce il fiore,
e candida
apparmi d'eterno
respiro sì lieta
e fugace l'amabile
sorte d'estremo
poetare.

Francesco Sinibaldi

Le cours de la vie.

Quand je pense
au premier
âge de ma
jeunesse, une
corporelle rime
m'appelle
silencieuse comme
une blanche
harmonie, et
un chant disparaît....

Francesco Sinibaldi

watched this TED talk today and found it quite enlightening... felt it was along the same vein of Wainaina's essay and wanted to share...
Chimamanda Adichie: The danger of a single story
http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/eng/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story.html

How about (Wainaina) try to to avoid the broad brush stereotyping and generalization that you're criticizing in others? How about recognize that some things do change over time, some people are involved in good work, some writers do avoid stereotypes, and some partnerships span continents (Even from Africa (not the country, specifically Kayanga, Karagwe, Kagera, Tanzania) to North America (not the country, specifically Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, United States of America)? http://amizadeeric.blogspot.com/

As a lifelong resident of Delhi, I could immediately identify the “nouveau rich” Dasgupta talks about in this article. It is made out to be a new phenomenon, but we have seen this time and again over the last four decades. Delhi attracts entrepreneurs, and when they succeed, some crass behaviour follows, and is talked about. Delhi-wallahs have learnt to ignore this. Fortunately Delhi still has a substantial majority of people one will love to meet.

Sadly, Dasgupta does not talk about some simple pleasures of Delhi. A visit to the walled city, a stroll through some quaint streets with mouth watering delicacies, charming bookshops and, for a discerning visitor, a sense of history to be read in the old buildings and monuments. Khan Market has some compelling restaurants and the Habitat Centre is ideal for a cultural evening.

The reason some people made lots of money to flash around is because the educated middle class Indians had money to spend. When recession squeezed their spending power, the businesses suffered. The proposed gigantic “Mall of India” in Gurgaon, has not taken off, because of a lack of buyers. So, to conclude that the rich have made money at the expense of the downtrodden is misleading. Everybody gained from the economic boom, some more that others.

The article belabours the infamous BMW case, as an example of judicial inequity. It is undeniable that such inequities- social, political and economic do exist in India. This is no different than any other country at India’s developmental stage. The point is that the schisms are recognised by the society and the government takes steps, albeit sluggishly, to address this.

Notably disappointing was the utter lack of cultural aspects of Delhi. The article dismissed a few Delhi-wallahs interviewed as dinosaurs, ill equipped to handle the feral ferociousness of Delhi’s moneyed. Fortunately this is far from the truth. Delhi hosts a vibrant cultural scene- try the theatre district in central Delhi, the endless painting exhibitions, the exuberant music festivals, and the historic Red Fort/Qutub festivals. I could go on at the risk of making this a tourist advert. Thankfully none of these are the favourite haunts of the upstarts and t

wow, great piece, i studied in Delhi (LSR, JNU) in the 70s after which i left India for a number of years. Whenever i return to Delhi now i'm astounded at how monstrous its become, and ruthless Gurgaon! i particularly appreciated your expose of how and why it came into being--

While i don't hold much brief for the angst of the Englsh-speaking elites it IS scary to think of the kind of business mentality that has taken over...its a petty provincialism that's global in its reach...being replicated in many cities around the world i'm sure.

The poor Ethiopians! They haven't a clue of the rough beast slouching their way.

A fascinating article. I admit to being totally unaware of the situation that the author writes about and he's opened my eyes to, for which I'm grateful.

Sandra Beasley, the poet, gave me the link to this piece when I brought Mary's name up in an exchange of e-mails.

Granta unerringly publishes only the best of the best. With the publication of "Lost Cat," Granta has not veered from its usual, perfect path.

Mary Gaitskill is a writer of enormous talent -- this, because she writes from the heart, warts and all.

RRB

Thank you for this story. Thank you...And I prayed for little Gattino while I read. He is happy.

This story touched me in so many ways. The quote about Simone Weil, is that me ? Reduced to loving the imaginary. It's a brave soul who can commit to love with all it's pitfalls.

I felt wonderfully uplifted (and perhaps no longer secretly ashamed) to read about such feelings for creatures small and frail. For many reasons this story has awakened sensitivities to relationships that i felt intuitively but have not thought through... until now.

Laborious. I've been asking myself questions about Granta - about once every three months. Where are the modern writers these days? Maybe it's "What is there to say?"; and "How do you say it?" Maybe it's as Melvyn Bragg suggested in an edition of South Bank Show several years ago, the real modern writer is unknown, is not famous, and does not seek mere shallow short-lived "recognition". There are Stars out there. Locked out of the flood of quantity (while no one reads, or has time to read, quality). There is also such a thing as quality of subject matter.

Oops, half of my last comment isn't on the screen having pressed 'Publish Comment.' Maybe it's too long?

"Another cliché: you never really leave."

Quite right, you don't. To the point where, if I may, it isn't a cliché but a very hard truth.

No-one who lived in Netherley in the 1970's could forget it.

Thank you so much for this excellently written description of Netherley. I came across it whilst idly googling for photos of Netherly. A wonderful read.

I was born in 1953 (I'm 55) and I lost touch with my sisters after the death of my parents sisters when I was twelve.

Sombody in London, where I lived, told me in 1972 that one of my sisters seemed to be a girl he met in Liverpool. I packed a rucksack and set off to find her, arriving in Liverpool with little money.

After a night spent outside I met a guy in a pub called the Hole in the Wall, and he said "Oh, homeless? Come to Netherley where I live. There are loads of empty places to squat in."

So I did. And there were.

The next four years were were a nightmare.

It began by my risking my life literally sticking the apartment's live mains cables together to get electricity. I used to drink a lot and smoke draw, so I was soon sucked into acid, speed and various junk.

Life in Netherley became a miserable existence, eking out a living via small-time dealing and stealing. Many people I knew then died of drug overdoses or other related things and the whole place was a lunatic asylum.

I remember the kind Chinese man at the fish-and-chip shop (or was it a Chinese take-away?) next to a pub. I lived in various places including Scafell Close, or Road, or whatever.

Rock concerts in downtown Liverpool were a godsend because they were a good place to deal acid, particularly at concerts by Hawkwind and bands like them.

There was a lot of violence although I was never set upon, nor did I get into any fights at all. Lucky I guess.

Stealing was extremely prevalent, even amongst 'friends.'

Living in Netherley was like living on another planet. It had its own codes, rules, customs. Newcomers were immediately "sussed out" to see who they were. Visitors were unwelcome. Paranoia was rife.

A lot of the paranoia came from the extraordinary amount of hard tranquiliser abuse. Seconal, Nembutal, or other 1970's versions of them were everywhe

This is an extraordinarily spare piece. I think the declarative sentences really contrast with the uncertainty felt by both the narrator and the reader, creating a sense of tension which lasts long after you finish reading the piece.

Lovely!