4 Tales

In celebration of February 21st, International Mother Language Day, we’re happy to present our new yearly magazine: μητρική γλώσσα (Mitrikí Glóssa) / Lingua Maternal / (Leşono Emhoyo)  ܠܫܢܐ ܐܡܗܝܐ / Anadil / Mother Tongue. 

Our first issue gathers three mother languages within Turkey and their dialects : Anatolian Greek, Ladino and Syriac. With an interest in everyday life, personal memories and cultural production, Mother Tongue Magazine brings together people who work and produce in these languages along with contributors who speak them, are learning them or never had the chance to learn them, embracing plurality over standardisation. Given the discourse surrounding the survival of these mother tongues, we are especially delighted to have received contributions by so many young people that are striving to keep them alive!

With contributions by: Lukas Aktaş, Nesi Altaras, Nektaria Αnastasiadou, Syrian Cassette Archives, Dilara Lüle Baklacıoğlu, Onur Çimen, Alp Etensel, Atra Givarkes, Fayrouz Library, The Pontian Library, Sara Jajou, Isla Hanna Karademir-Khoury, Iokasti Kyriaki Zografou Mantzakidou, Melisa Yağmur Saydı, Münir Tireli, Lîs Yayınevi, Beni Yorohan

Design / Illustration: Bilge Emir

"[…] this new poetry will not serve the taste of the prosperous class. which only represents a minority. The people who populate this earth find the right to live at the end of a constant struggle. Like everything else, they also have a right to poetry, and it will appeal to their taste."

Three friends —Orhan Veli Kanik, Melih Cevdet Anday and Oktay Rifat— followed this principle as they were composing their "odd" poems. Their aim was to write poetry for everyone, about everyone.

This books gathers the poems Orhan Veli published with his friends in Odd (1941), the manifesto he wrote for this new poetry, and the foreword he wrote for the 1945 re-edition.

This booklet is a collection of 5 Prison Songs written by Sabahattin Ali in 1932-1933 whilst imprisoned in Konya and Sinop, Turkey. 

Bu kitapçık Sabahattin Ali’nin 1932-1933 senelerinde önce Konya sonra Sinop hapishanesinde kaleme aldığı 5 Hapishane Şarkısı içerir.

The Stone Door is a surrealist allegory intertwining myth, mysticism, and romance. Written by Leonora Carrington after World War II, the novel follows a woman's symbolic journey through esoteric teachings, ancient lands, and dreamlike visions in pursuit of spiritual awakening and the unification of male and female forces. Both a metaphysical adventure and a tribute to Carrington's personal love story, it offers a visionary exploration of transformation and liberation.

On work and words, and how they contort the world.

Lena is a part-time bookseller in a bougie design studio in Oxford Circus. In between minimum-wage work under a politically hostile boss and strained communications with her parents, her days are shaped by a fraught relationship with food, ambiguous experiments in creative writing, and mounting pressure to find a ‘proper’ postgraduate job.

In taut, pocket-sized vignettes, COOP reveals a suffocating lattice of language that makes up a precarious London life. But as each word of her story unravels, Lena discovers interstices between them—to find autonomy and escape.

New Orleans, 1853. A young Zapotec exile from Mexico named Benito Juárez disembarks at a fetid port city at the edge of a swamp. Years later, he will become the first indigenous head of state in the postcolonial Americas, but now he is as anonymous and invisible as any other migrant to the roiling and alluring city.

Accompanied by a small group of fellow exiles who plot their return and hoped-for victory over the Mexican dictatorship, Juárez immerses himself in the city, which absorbs him like a sponge. He and his compatriots work odd jobs, fall victim to the cons and confusions of a strange young nation, succumb to the hallucinations of yellow fever, and fall in love with the music and food all around them. But unavoidable, too, is the stark trade in human beings.

With the extraordinary linguistic play and love of popular forms that have characterized all of Herrera’s fiction, Season of the Swamp is a magnificent work of speculative history, a love letter to the city of New Orleans and its polyglot culture, and a cautionary statement that informs our understanding of the world we live in.

In the twelve stories of Heart Lamp, Banu Mushtaq exquisitely captures the everyday lives of women and girls in Muslim communities in southern India. Published originally in the Kannada language between 1990 and 2023, praised for their dry and gentle humour, these portraits of family and community tensions testify to Mushtaq’s years as a journalist and lawyer, in which she tirelessly championed women’s rights and protested all forms of caste and religious oppression. Written in a style at once witty, vivid, colloquial, moving and excoriating, it’s in her characters – the sparky children, the audacious grandmothers, the buffoonish maulvis and thug brothers, the oft-hapless husbands, and the mothers above all, surviving their feelings at great cost – that Mushtaq emerges as an astonishing writer and observer of human nature, building disconcerting emotional heights out of a rich spoken style. Her opus has garnered both censure from conservative quarters as well India’s most prestigious literary awards; this is a collection sure to be read for years to come.

Winner of the 2025 International Booker Prize.

The devastating final work by Brazil’s greatest modern writer, The Hour of the Star tells the haunting tale of Macabéa—a typist who lives in the slums of Rio—underfed, sickly, and unloved, yet inwardly free.

Translated from the Portuguese by Benjamin Moser. With a contribution by Paulo Gurgel and Valente Colm Tóibín.

The Hour of the Star, Clarice Lispector's consummate final novel, may well be her masterpiece. Narrated by the cosmopolitan Rodrigo S.M., this brief, strange, and haunting tale is the story of Macabéa, one of life's unfortunates. Living in the slums of Rio de Janeiro and eking out a poor living as a typist, Macabéa loves movies, Coca-Cola, and her rat of a boyfriend; she would like to be like Marilyn Monroe, but she is ugly, underfed, sickly, and unloved. Rodrigo recoils from her wretchedness, and yet he cannot avoid realization that for all her outward misery, Macabéa is inwardly free. She doesn't seem to know how unhappy she should be. Lispector employs her pathetic heroine against her urbane, empty narrator—edge of despair to edge of despair—and, working them like a pair of scissors, she cuts away the reader's preconceived notions about poverty, identity, love, and the art of fiction. In her last novel she takes readers close to the true mystery of life, and leaves us deep in Lispector territory indeed.