A John Latham poem is a like a precipitation: images coalesce around a single memory the way ice crystallises around the smallest particle to form a snowflake; the strange logic that constructs them is unique each time. Passionate, satirical, mysterious, the poems in his sixth collection capture the vibrancy of a childhood that still bewitches him half a century later, alongside the cruel betrayals of old age, and the fresh possibilities bound up in each new encounter. Latham’s training as a physicist may bring a cosmic perspective to the landscapes he maps out, but they are also profoundly local. The wonders of the universe are no more mysterious to him than the simple oddity of other humans. And as the title poem demonstrates, every last atom of detail, even the mistakes of a makeshift translation, have the capacity to beguile. The title poem - From Professor Murasaki’s Notebooks on the Effects of Lightning on the Human Body - won second prize (out of 12,000 entries) in the UK’s most prestigious competition, The National Poetry Competition (2006).

A slighted wife escapes her wealthy family for the evening and stumbles into the city's red-light district... The head of security at Barcelona's container port searches for a figure that only he has seen sneak in... An elderly woman brings home a machine that will turn her body into atoms, so she can leave behind a city that is no longer recognisable... Historically, Barcelona is a city of resistance and independence; a focal point for Catalan identity, as well as the capital of Spanish republicanism. Nestled between the Mediterranean coast and mountains, this burgeoning city has also been home to some of the greatest names in modern art and architecture, and attracts visitors and migrants from all over the world. As a result, the city is a melting-pot of cultures, and the stories gathered here offer a miscellany of form and genre, fittingly reminiscent of one of Gaudi's mosaics. From the boy-giant outgrowing his cramped flat on the city's outskirts, to the love affair that begins in a launderette, we meet characters who are reclaiming the independence of their city by challenging common misconceptions and telling its myriad truths.

Gaia Holmes’ third collection of poetry transports us to the edge of things: to remote, treeless islands, to dark, unfathomable mines, to the gaping maw of grief. With frailty and ferocity, these poems map out the strange absences left in our lives when a rupture occurs – like the sudden appearance of a sinkhole – threatening to pull everything else down with it. Where the Road Runs Out is a powerful and intimate portrait of loss, isolation, and ultimately healing. Above all, it is a paean to the landscape, and the myths, magic and mysteries that lie just beneath the surface. ‘More like incantation or witchcraft – Gaia’s poems are spells, taking the most ordinary and mundane of things, and working some metamorphosis on them, so they shine like stars – tiny but brilliant.’ – Sara Maitland

A Room of One’s Own is an essay written by Virginia Woolf. It was published in 1929 and is based on two lectures given by the author in 1928 at two colleges for women at Cambridge. In this famous essay, Woolf addressed the status of women, and women artists in particular. In this essay, the author also asserts that a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write. According to Woolf, women’s creativity has been curtailed due to centuries of prejudice and financial and educational disadvantages. To emphasize her view, she offers the example of an imaginary gifted but uneducated sister of William Shakespeare, who, discouraged from all eventually kills herself. Woolf celebrates the work of women who have overcome that tradition and become writers, including Jane Austen, George Eliot, and the Brontë sisters, Anne, Charlotte, and Emily. In the final section Woolf suggests that great minds are neutral and argues that intellectual freedom requires financial freedom. The author entreats her audience to write not only fiction but poetry, criticism, and scholarly works as well.

Four decades ago—aged twenty—the author experienced what he calls a "negative satori," a fundamental and irrefutable realization not of enlightenment, but of himself as a predicament only enlightenment could resolve. This, shaped by the hammer blows of a singular American professor, Richard DeMartino, brought him to Zen, and to Japan. Yet over time, of far greater import than his bungling efforts were the wonderful occupants of the Zen world he encountered: Toyoshima–san, the meditation Prometheus whose superhuman efforts astounded and inspired all while he remained impaled on the cliff's edge; the Thief, chief monastery monk who stole the world from whoever he encountered and whose yawns and the brushing of his teeth shot sparks of Absolute Meaning; Hisamatsu, the great lay Zen Master who at age 16 overheard a doctor tell his mother he'd be dead in six months, only to awaken ten years later and become the most delighted man in Japan; Bunko, the monk kind to others but ferocious with himself, whose daily state of Oneness in meditation left him dissatisfied because despite all exertion he could not crush it to pieces and break beyond it. These are among the sitters for the portraits in Reports From the Zen Wars, Steve Antinoff's attempt to bear witness to what for him has been The Greatest Show on Earth, price of admission one lotus position.

Paperback reprint. Originally published: 2020.