Writings of the general word's body

Monday, August 20, 2007

New Read

Excerpt from a romp of a story by Hari Kunzru, Magda Mandela, published recently in The New Yorker. A lusty portrait of a riotous female who claims to be the daughter of none other than - you guessed it - the Madiba...

"One of the younger and less experienced constables has obviously asked her to accompany him to a place where, as an agent of the state, he will feel less exposed. A police station, perhaps. Or a hospital. Anywhere that will tip the odds a little in his favor. Magda has met this suggestion with the scorn it deserves. She knows that she outnumbers these fools. YOU KNOW ME, she says. Then, with a sinister leer, AND I KNOW YOU.

Being known by Magda is a messy and unavoidably carnal experience. All of us neighbors have been known by Magda. Last time she knew me, she pushed me up against the side of my car. I know you, she breathed huskily. And I knew I’d been known."

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