Böcker utgivna av Vintage Publishing

EVERYONE THINKS MALA IS A MURDERER'A Caribbean classic' Monique Roffey, author of The Mermaid of Black Conch-------Everyone in Paradise thinks Mala Ramchandin is a murderer. But with no body, no evidence and no witnesses, Mala is sent to an Alms House as a madwoman instead of prison. Here she meets Tyler, the only openly queer person on the island of Lantanacamara with whom she feels an affinity as an outsider. Despite Mala's muteness, she manages to communicate with Tyler about her missing sister, Asha. This is Mala's story, and an appeal to find Asha, told in Tyler's words. He dives deeply into Mala's family history, uncovering years of trauma passed down through generations and - staggeringly, beautifully - the love that has survived through it all. With an introduction by Ingrid Persaud. 'Visceral, sensual and heartbreakingly tender' Ayanna Lloyd Banwo, author of When We Were Birds'A story of magical power' Alice Munro, author of Dear Life'Will remind many readers of Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things' Kirkus'Clearly ahead of its time' BooksellerFINALIST FOR THE GILLER PRIZEFINALIST FOR THE ETHEL WILSON FICTION PRIZELONGLISTED FOR THE BOOKER PRIZE

**SHORTLISTED FOR THE T. S. ELIOT PRIZE****SHORTLISTED FOR THE SEAMUS HEANEY FIRST COLLECTION PRIZE**'Fresh, urgent, alive... genius' PATIENCE AGBABIThis assured and arresting first collection moves deftly and with purpose into private, hidden places - a locked shed, the dark of a battery farm, a murky riverbed, a late-night bar - to show, unflinchingly and in cinematic detail, what we might otherwise choose not to see. Sight is both a gift and curse, of course: given or taken away in poems of windows and curtains, torches and blindfolds, and yet here - following in the tradition of Oswald and Heaney - each image is freshly minted through a cool, objective eye. Every poem seeks to inhabit those seemingly small but pivotal moments which have monumental, sometimes mortal, consequences. For Pajak, time is fluid: a blink can be 'slow as an eclipse', our lifetimes are fleeting, our deaths often lingering and seldom peaceful or painless. Vivid and visceral, steadily examining violence, sexual encounters, childhood and ageing (a dying grandmother's 'slow pink eyelids, those quick teaspoon breaths'), cars and cities, and Nature - full of wonder and threat - Slide is always asking pertinent questions: illuminating brutality, frailty and tenderness, the responsibility of those who witness - whether voyeur, bystander or reader. This is a charged, beautifully observed and thrilling debut.