Claire-Louise Bennett

speaker

283 appearances 1 recordings 1 series first heard Jul 2026 last heard 4 Jul

Claire-Louise Bennett’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.

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recordings per month · last 12 months

Recordings per month over the last 12 months — 1 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 1.

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London Review Bookshop Podcast · Claire-Louise Bennett & Ben Pester: Magic & Mechanics · 4 Jul 2026 podcast

Back and forth, examining the expel and the courtray and the clowning barnacle.

And all day, with no break to unwrap or unscrew or squint and flex or soap the brush, no, no, none flim flim on that here cavorting mainstay.

from tree to tree and the pond there deepening, and some small holes appearing, and any number of cornstalks twisting into a thing far from corn.

That being the case, there was some wretched plotting turned to stone, holding nothing.

No, no, none rubby-rubby on that here yardstick.

Came then from the region of Silt and Astor, all along the horse-trammel and fire-valvet, first these sounds, and then their makers, when past betwixt and entered fully, pails were swung, and notches considered.

There was no light, no, none, non-jvim-jvim on that here piss-crater.

And it being the day still considered, oh, all things considered, and not one mentioned, since all names had turned in and handed back.

Knowing this, the hounds disbanded, and knowing that the ground muddled headstones and milestones and gallows, and the almond-shaped buds of freshest honey suckle.

And among this chafing tumult, fates were scrambled, and mortality made untidy, and pithy vows took themselves a breather.

This being the way and irreversible, homewards now was a lifted skeletal thing of the past, without due application or undue meaning.

No.

None shap-shap on that here domicile shank.

From right foot to left, first by the furze, then by the river, hung and loitered, and the blaze there slow to come.

all night waking with no benefit of sleeping and the breath cranking and the heart-place levering and the kerosene pervading but failing to jerk a flame from out any one thing no none none whoosh whoosh on that here burnished cunt oh the earth the earth and the women there inside the simpering huts stamped and spiritless blowing on the coals

not far away, but beyond the way of return.

Well, yeah, I suppose it does because I have a very bad memory.

So in a way, when I reread, it's as if I'm reading it for the first time.

And because I suppose I'm not particularly conscious at the time of writing, of writing anything in particular, you know, there's no particular sort of intention.

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