Ortac Press – förlag

In contemporary culture, there is no stronger imperative than to be authentic. But what does authenticity actually mean? Everywhere we turn, we are urged to "live our truth": an element of Western culture that is almost never questioned. Authenticity in all its contexts is becoming more significant than ever as digital culture breeds fakery and capitalism offers the illusion of infinite choice. In this climate, finding and being yourself is a more complex idea than it sounds - one that should not necessarily be taken as doctrine. In this set of six sharp, lively essays, the writer and journalist Emily Bootle explores how authenticity has pervaded every facet of our culture, from modern celebrity and identity politics to Instagram captions and wellness. Blending pop culture and philosophy, this book dismantles the ideology surrounding being ourselves at all costs, and questions what fuels our authenticity obsession.

What do the longest-serving Canadian Prime Minister and a ketamine-injecting psychonaut have in common? What would a poltergeist mongoose say if you spoke to him on a Ouija board? Would talking spiders be more believable if they had lips? Theseare some of the important questions Luke Thompson seeks to answer in this exploration of human-animal conversation.Spanning the ancient and modern, the scientific and the strange, Thompson's journey takes him from the stories of King Solomon and Doctor Dolittle to medieval dragon-slayers and extraterrestrial aliens, via Harvard laboratories, pet psychics, and the discipline of anthrozoology.Always eccentric and always fascinating, Domadomadoma-Blumblumblum sees Thompson navigate these peculiar landscapes - whether lowering himself into a flotation tank or training as a pet psychic - with many questions on his mind: What exactly do we want from conversations with our fellow animals? What portrait of the world do we paint when we envisage these communications? And how far are we willing to go to realise this dream?

Where have all the ravers gone? Following his debut, Flower Factory, Richard Foster presents a new batch of psychedelicized, autofictive fairy tales from the Netherlands. The Punk Rock Birdwatching Club introduces a diverse cast of voices - from addicts to grandmothers - who narrate eight stories dealing with the major social changes that country underwent during the mid-noughties. We learn of the upheavals brought on by the Euro and the influx of Polish workers alongside the slow disappearance of the British and Irish worker-raver tribes post-Schengen, all set against a backdrop of rising costs, political murders and foreign wars. We also learn of the shock of new party snacks, like asparagus sticks wrapped in ham. Like Flower Factory, The Punk Rock Birdwatching Club is set in the southern part of the Dutch Bollenstreek: an agro-industrial district that is always changing, but somehow manages to stay exactly the same.

What does depression look like through a camera lens? How can the act of photography itself become a lifeline in the midst of mental turmoil? In this striking personal essay and collection of photographs, architect Abele takes us on a visual exploration of his journey with bipolar disorder. From the frenetic energy of Tokyo's cityscape to moments of profound solitude, each image offers a window into the photographer's mind. Abele's introductory essay provides context to his visual narrative. He candidly shares how his successful career took him to Japan, where the intensity of work and life exacerbated his yet-undiagnosed condition. As he grappled with the highs and lows of bipolar disorder, Abele discovered an unexpected therapeutic tool in his camera. Detour is not just a showcase of artistic photography; it's a testament to the power of creative expression in managing mental health. Through Abele's lens, we see how the act of capturing moments can bring clarity to a turbulent mind, offering both the artist and the viewer a new perspective on the complexities of living with bipolar disorder.

In the derelict shell of what was once his family home, a dying man surveys the wreckage of his former life and drinks himself senseless, haunted by the chain of events that led him there.Dark, complex, and visceral, Keshed is an unflinching character study exploring class, belonging, fatherhood, and conflicting ideals of modern masculinity.At heart, it's the story of a relationship struggling to cope with the impossible pressures of raising a child under late-stage capitalism; but it's also a love letter to the working-class North, from the grinding poverty of Thatcher's '80s to the present day.

Right.’ She flicked the thin dress straps off her shoulders, then reached behind her back for the zip. ‘Let’s get started, mister.’ Anthony is barely present in his own life. A failed academic career, a soul-crushing call-centre job, an Alcoholics Anonymous group he resents attending: he’s checked out from all of it. He spends the Sydney summer trying to avoid the sun, and lives only for the evenings when he can visit Emma, a sex worker at a local brothel. It’s during these rented hours that Anthony finds brief moments of human connection. He can afford to see Emma maybe once a month, but he can never hold on that long.Then Emma disappears, and there’s nowhere left for Anthony to hide. By turns appalling, funny and tender, The Bedevilments is an eye-opening story about addiction, sex and anonymity.

Freedom of movement wasn't always an alien concept to the British. Flower Factory tells of an English seasonal worker going to live and work in the Netherlands at the turn of the millennium. These psyched-out remembrances are set in the Bollenstreek of South Holland, an area that produces flower bulbs by the billion. Casual workers from all over Europe created their own ecosystem of squats, parties and alternative living practices around the working seasons, raving hard and living for the weekly pay packet. In the year 2000 it seemed nothing would change in this free-and-easy land, but the narrator witnessed the last beating of the 24 Hour Party drum. Featuring original line illustrations by the author, this surreally comic and immersive novel is a dreamlike snapshot of life in Europe just two decades ago: the book shines a lurid light on a world that's difficult to recognise today.

Ada is haunted by her yearning for Istanbul and by the scars of a nightlong interrogation following her arrest at the Gezi Park protests. Now in London temping at an art fair, she meets Lucian, an eccentric, charming but burnt-out gallerist. Since his divorce, Lucian has been relying on drugs and alcohol to mend his broken heart. Ada, meanwhile, dreads the verdict of her forthcoming trial in Istanbul. Day-by-day, as their passion deepens, they reassess their past choices, and their futures rapidly take shape. Sensual, perceptive and at times bitingly funny, The Fugitive of Gezi Park explores the nature of trauma and struggle, asking what it takes of us to start all over again.In 2013, police brutality against a peaceful group protesting the destruction of Gezi Park - one of the few public green spaces in Istanbul - prompted an unprecedented wave of demonstrations which spread rapidly across Turkey, lasting several weeks. The Gezi Park Protests are a pivotal moment in the country's volatile recent history, and continue to carry huge sentimental value for the dissidents of the 'New Turkey.'

This is a book about how it feels to exist. About the moments we come off autopilot and engage fully with the world around us. The fleeting moments in which our minds and bodies connect totally to one another and to our environment.Intimate, impassioned and full of humour, PINCH ME follows art historian Francesca Ramsay's far-reaching journey in search of answers to one of life's most complex and essential questions: What does it mean to feel real?Tackling this ancient subject through a contemporary lens, PINCH ME is a raw, lyrical reflection on finding connection with oneself, one another and the modern world. Ramsay investigates what it is to experience reality, the reasons so many of us are feeling the lack of it today, and crucially, how we might be able to get it back.