Format: 117 × 202 mm
Binding: perfect bound
Pages: 104
In Hannah Regel’s brilliant collection, Oliver Reed, the figure of the horse becomes an object for language’s brutality and the all too familiar subjugation of women’s voices, bodies, and labour. An impressive hyperbolic pastiche of pleasurable misbehavior guides a girl named Sorry through her own undoing while naming new tools for calculated resistance. ‘Kill the language. Kill it. Get the shovel. We’re making a belt.’ I would gladly do whatever she tells me to do and wouldn’t think of doing otherwise. Regel creates a new order for the ecstatic wreckage of obedience.
– Cassandra Troyan, author of Blacken Me Blacken Me, Growled
The second edition of Oliver Reed, published February 2024, includes a newly commissioned introduction by Olivia Kan-Sperling.
In Oliver Reed, growing-up happens naturally, clip clip clop, at the same time as it requires someone or something—line break or literal incision—to break you in. Oliver Reed is about how a pony body gets trained and a pony mind gets educated, over and over and over again. Time, in this book, loops more than it progresses: “Sorry attends her Birth” after “Sorry is a Girl, Grown Up.” I wish I’d read Oliver Reed at fourteen or eighteen; then again, I sort of feel like I did. This we already know: if looking at young girls never gets old, writing about them doesn’t, either.
— Olivia Kan-Sperling, editor at The Paris Review and author of Island Time
Author: Hannah Regel
Publisher: Montez Press
