There is some outstanding poetry in this collection (which dates from 2005 - and I've only just got around to reading it!). The short stories included here are more patchy, though still with some superb examples of a genre that won't lie down and die. Publishers don't like short stories, indeed, they are convinced that readers don't like them, yet anthologies such as this demonstrate that the form persists for new young writers and - exceedingly encouragingly - for major names in the literary canon.
Poetry first then: eight poems from Ramona Herdman, all of them lucid, beautiful, harsh and uncompromising - seeming to speak with both an astounded vigour and heart-break about the world. There is a defiance here, a steely connectedness that I found mesmerising. Ian Duhig, a Leeds-based poet who I have found in the past to be intellectually demanding with a historical bent, but also tremendously rewarding, defies any such category here with a beautiful poem about the indestructible nylon monofilament nets that escape from trawlers and fish for themselves. This is the fourth verse:
To rise, to fill, to fall a feast -
Shape-memory may fish for years
That never-never land of plenty,
The shelvy deserts of our seas
Other poems, by Nick Laird and Jen Hadfield, also deserve a mention.
Two novel excerpts are included. An incomparable section from David Mitchell's book Black Swan Green concerning the Hangman who waits to trip his protagonist's tongue, and from Kate Atkinson a section from When Will There Be Good News concerning the wonderful Gloria, whose unlovely husband Graham has pegged out on top of a prostitute, leaving her free to start a life long deferred, along with a good amount of his ill-gotten gains.
The short story I enjoyed most was Peter Hobbs' story set in the future of a coastal town built on stilts in the endless rain of our doomed planet - and a miraculous chance for one reviled inhabitant to escape. Names to look out for in the future are: Matt Thorne, Neil Stewart, Emily Perkins and Heloise Shepherd.