A remarkable first collection by an important new poet

In this collection, Seán Hewitt gives us poems of a rare musicality and grace. By turns searing and meditative, these are lyrics concerned with the matter of the world, its physicality, but also attuned to the proximity of each moment, each thing, to the spiritual.

Here, there is sex, grief, and loss, but also a committed dedication to life, hope and renewal. Drawing on the religious, the sacred and the profane, this is a collection in which men meet in the woods, where matter is corrupted and remade. There are prayers, hymns, vespers, incantations, and longer poems which attempt to propel themselves towards the transcendent.

In this book, there is always the sense of fragility allied with strength, a violence harnessed and unleashed. The collection ends with a series of elegies for the poet's father: in the face of despair, we are met with a fierce brightness, and a reclamation of the spiritual. 'This is when / we make God, and speak in his voice.'

Paying close attention to altered states and the consolations and strangeness of the natural world, this is the first book from a major poet.

Look - anyone who invents something really great has a moment where they think it's going to destroy the world.

For the first time in her life, Fin is off the network. A few months ago, she was the inventor of a programme so powerful, so unusual that she was untouchable.

Until she wasn't.

Meanwhile, people have started disappearing from the streets of the city and the technology she created might be implicated.

Square Eyes is a graphic novel about a future where the boundaries between memory, dreams and the digital world start to blur. It's a kaleidoscopic mystery story which asks: in a city built on digital illusion, who really holds the power? What is weakness? And when is it most dangerous?

The roots of Hallowe'en lie in the ancient pre-Christian Celtic festival of Samhain, a feast to mark the death of the old year and the birth of the new. It was believed that on this night the veil separating the worlds of the living and the dead grew thin and ruptured, allowing spirits to pass through and walk unseen but not unheard amongst men. The advent of Christianity saw the pagan festival subsumed in All Souls' Day, when across Europe the dead were mourned and venerated. Children and the poor, often masked or in outlandish costume, wandered the night begging 'soul cakes' in exchange for prayers, and fires burned to keep malevolent phantoms at bay.

From Europe, the haunted tradition would quickly take root and flourish in the fertile soil of the New World. Feeding hungrily on fresh lore, consuming half-remembered tales of its own shadowy origins and rituals, Hallowe'en was reborn in America. The pumpkin supplanted the carved turnip; costumes grew ever stranger, and celebrants both rural and urban seized gleefully on the festival's intoxicating, lawless spirit. For one wild night, the dead stared into the faces of the living and the living, ghoulishly masked and clad in tattered backwoods baroque, stared back.

The photographs in Haunted Air provide an extraordinary glimpse into the traditions of this macabre festival from ages past, and form an important document of photographic history. These are the pictures of the dead: family portraits, mementos of the treasured, now unrecognisable, other. Torn from album pages, sold piecemeal for pennies and scattered, abandoned to melancholy chance and the hands of strangers.

One in three women in Britain have an abortion. For such a common procedure, it has not been the subject of a dedicated book of poetry - not, at least, until now.

'Painful, brave and steadfastly honest' ANDREW MCMILLAN

'Original, essential... An unforgettable collection' FIONA BENSON

Amelia Loulli opens this fearless, frank, absorbing debut with the words 'I'm going to tell you what happened', and that is precisely what she does. With these careful, generous, insistent poems, we are led through the experience of abortion and surprised at every turn. There is vulnerability and despair, there is the shame and silence too, but there is also the constant, steady pulse of compassion, tenderness and wonder at the world.

Slip is a daring book, not just in subject but in style: skilfully worked, integrating the rich terror of nursery rhymes and folk tales with the bland banalities and euphemisms of social interaction, of medical techniques. It is also, sadly, a necessary book - provocative and transformative poetry about women as mothers and survivors. A cry of fury and a cry of love.

A collection about motherhood at a time of continuous crisis - from one of Ireland's most important poets

'Everyone should be reading her'
OBSERVER

'One of the most accomplished poets of her generation'
GUARDIAN

These poems emerge from the experience of being a single mother in Belfast, and against a background of seemingly continuous crisis. Political upheaval and anxiety, violence and death are all registered in these poems, which ask questions about where independence is balanced by our relationships with others, and where our inner lives meet the globally connected world.

These are poems about cities - living, travelling and working in cities, getting sick and dying in cities - but also about retreating from all that: to her daughter at home, the budgie, cat and tortoise, or escaping to the park, the municipal pool, the Irish countryside, Newfoundland, or Paris, or into a Nina Simone song.

This is a necessary book - a book very much of our time - with a consistent tone that is brave and bleak, but which also carries with it some much-needed humour, and a wealth of beautiful writing.

A moving, often very funny graphic memoir about what it is like to grow up with an illness that no one can diagnose.

When the headaches started, Sarah Lippett would stand alone on a different side of the playground from the other children. When she started to drag one of her legs, her parents took her to hospital, and so began the visits to many different doctors, each one more bewildered by her illness than the last. Initially schooled at home, when Sarah went back to school she was placed with the struggling kids, and still so often ill, she felt even more alone.

But although Sarah's parents often despaired of the stream of appointments and no cure, they never showed it and she grew up in the midst of a boisterous, loving family and found good friends at last, as well as venturing into bands, art, boys, books and records. Finally, when Sarah turned sixteen, she was admitted to Great Ormond Street Hospital where the doctors diagnosed her with the rare disease, Moyamoya. The book ends with Sarah waking up after brain surgery.

'Fresh, urgent, alive... genius.' Patience Agbabi This 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.

The language of cycling is vibrant, sophisticated, often impenetrable and extremely French. Find yourself confused, nodding along when a rouleur relates how le biscuit was effrité (crumbled)? How today they're feeling Angers (past caring)? Fear no more, for Boulting's Velosaurus will illuminate, enlighten and, frankly, mislead. Tour de France commentator and cycling writer Ned Boulting provides the ultimate lexicon of nonsense terminology, featuring essential vocabulary like Alpe (an Alp), panache (riding with doomed flamboyance, conscious of the need to renew one's contract), moutarde (any race that ends, begins or passes through the city of Dijon) and maillot (a jumper, obviously), Boulting's Velosaurus is the ideal companion to all things peloton for linguistically-challenged fans of non-automotive two-wheeled sport.

An absolutely charming book of doggy wisdom to help you through life's peaks and troughs.

Plum returns with a charming book of doggy wisdom to help you through life's peaks and troughs.

Her first book, Plumdog, made her thousands of new friends. Every one of them will want Plum's guidance as she leads us on the Path to Perfection.

Cassandra Darke is an art dealer, mean, selfish, solitary by nature, living in Chelsea in a house worth 7 million. She has become a social pariah, but doesn't much care. Between one Christmas and the next, she has sullied the reputation of a West End gallery and has acquired a conviction for fraud, a suspended sentence and a bank balance drained by lawsuits. On the scale of villainy, fraud seems to Cassandra a rather paltry offense--her own crime involving 'no violence, no weapon, no dead body. But in Cassandra's basement, her young ex-lodger, Nicki, has left a surprise, something which implies at least violence and probably a body. Something which forces Cassandra out of her rich enclave and onto the streets. Not those local streets paved with gold and lit with festive glitter, but grimmer, darker places, where she must make the choice between self-sacrifice and running for her life.

The poems in this extraordinary book deal in familiar emotions--love, grief, rage, and loneliness--but do so with such a fresh and fierce eye, such lived intensity, that the familiar is given again the force to touch our nerves, to seem raw and new. Some of the poems are based in the territory of home and childhood, others move into that unnerving space where the safe and polite world plunges over a ledge--into anarchic revisions of what is possible or acceptable. They treat myths and fairy stories, or even paintings, not as fictions but as part of our continuing experience. Powerful and sensuous, wry and witty, their clear voice stays in the mind: provoking, questioning, refusing to accept the soft lie. These disturbing and passionate poems demand to be read.

To mark the opening of the Saatchi Gallery's new and largest exhibition space in London, this definitive volume presents the work of a generation of German artists who have grown up in a post-war and divided nation. Beginning with the work of such dominant figures as Martin Kippenberger and Jorg Immendorff, it extends into the new generations, including radical work from the Leipzig school. Designed to coincide with future exhibitions at the Saatchi, this is the most authoritative and comprehensive survey of new painting from Eastern Europe.

The first part of an awesome new graphic novel by two of the field's very brightest talents

Just had a romantic Waterloo sunset spoiled by the sight of a corpse being dredged from the Thames? Welcome to Drowntown . . .

The name's Noiret, Leo Noiret. I'm a Minder, which means people hire me to protect them, figuring that my beer belly and monumental streak of bad luck are big enough to intercept any blades, bullets or bad feelings heading their way.

Staying alive isn't easy, though, when everyone who's anyone in Drowntown wants your new client dead in the water. I'm going to need a bigger belly . . .

The world has changed forever, ravaged by climatic upheaval. The flooded metropolis of London has adapted to the rising sea levels, remaining a center for international commerce and a magnet for environmental refugees. The elite gaze out over the ever-expanding Thames from their ivory towers, while the denizens of submerged pubs peer into the sunken streets like specimens in an aquarium. Hired by notorious underworld figure Alexandra Bastet, Leo Noiret uncovers a terrifying conspiracy that stretches from the depths of Drowntown to the highest echelons of power and influence. Struggling aqua-courier Gina Cassel learns that young love can be a dangerous game when she becomes romantically involved with the heir to the Drakenberg Corporation, which aims to control both the environment and the future of human evolution. There's a storm brewing in Drowntown, with Gina and Noiret at its heart.

On holiday in Suffolk, a boy and his dog discover a World War II pillbox half buried on a deserted beach. When he returns the next day with his parents, the pillbox has disappeared. They learn a pillbox had been there and a boy had once been found in it, dead...

1945, another boy, another dog, the same pillbox ... and an American serviceman from the local base. Murder, treachery, a terrible secret...

David Hughes' second graphic novel is a haunting ghost story - dark, disturbing and - as always with Hughes - stunningly drawn.

An explosive and daring novel about bodies, sex, politics and disability by the prize-winning Spanish writer Cristina Morales Ángela, Patricia, Marga and Nati are cousins living together in Barcelona. As women branded as disabled who share a state-subsidized flat, they must fight every day to retain their independence and find new and inventive ways - from dance to underground zines - to stop the state from managing every aspect of their lives. Funny and furious, Easy Reading is an indictment of the institutions that stigmatize individuals as disabled and of the language that marginalizes them. It is also a portrait - visceral, vibrant, combative - of contemporary Barcelona. But, above all, Easy Reading is a feminist celebration of the body in all its forms, of female desire and queer sexuality, and of the transgressive and revolutionary power of language. Translated from the Spanish by Kevin Gerry Dunn

A funny, heartfelt graphic memoir about living in foreign countries, and finding one's place both at home and abroad. In this delightful graphic novel, Lucie Arnoux chronicles her adventures around the world. Growing up in Marseille as a misfit with a passion for drawing, she decides to settle in London to pursue her dream career as a comics writer. Je Ne Sais Quoi shows us London through the eyes of a mischievous and clear-sighted young French woman, the joys and pains of being an outsider and, ultimately, how to live life to its fullest.

Lucia is a hard town, full of hard people. It stands looking out across the unforgiving sea that is slowly swallowing it. Its people are all unemployed, with nothing to live for but a pint and fight.

Among them are Brick and Morty, one a disabled, heartbroken divorcee and aspiring writer, the other his best friend and protector, a fantasist and aspiring Ultimate Fighting Welterweight Champion of the world.

After a career spanning 60 years, Sir Don McCullin, once a witness to conflict across the globe, has become one of the great landscape photographers of our time. McCullin's pastoral view is far from idyllic. He has not sought out the quiet corners of rural England, but is drawn, instead, to the drama of approaching storms. He has an acute sense of how the emptiness of his immediate landscape echoes a wider tone of disquiet. McCullin is based in the geographical center of southern England. The presence of sacred mounds, hill forts, ancient roads and the nearby monuments of the prehistoric era have shaped his sense of nationhood. But down on the Somerset Levels, he has tramped through the flooded lowlands. The imagery of his home county, ravaged by storms, inevitably projects the associations of a battlefield, or, at least, the views of one intimate with scenes of war. He is not alone in his preference for darkened clouds over clear skies. McCullin's West Country is not far removed from the East Anglia of Constable's Dedham Vale two centuries earlier. His knowledge of his historical predecessors places him deep in a Romantic tradition. His experience as a traveller reinforces the sense of a man on the edge of civilisation under siege. Nowhere is this more apparent than in his repeated views of the glories of Palmyra and of the destruction of this ancient Syrian city. The Landscape is the last in a long series of books published by Jonathan Cape, which encompasses the entirety of McCullin's working life.

Jean Sprackland is celebrated for her tactile, transformative poetry which makes the miraculous seem familiar and the domestic other-worldly. Her new collection is tuned to new and deeper frequencies. Green noise is the mid-frequency component of white noise--what some have called the background noise of the world--and these poems listen for what is audible, and available to be known and understood, and what is not. Each poem is an attempt at location--in time, in place, in language. Some look into the natural world and our human place in it, by investigating hidden worlds within worlds: oak-apples, aphid-farms, firewood teeming with small life. Others go in search of fragments of a mythic and often brutal past: the lost haunts of childhood, abandoned villages, scraps of shared history which are only ever partially remembered. A physical relic or a mark on the landscape seems briefly to offer a portal, where a sounding is taken from present to past and back again.

Deeply engaged with the flux of the world, these poems are alert, precise, and vividly memorable--listening to the machine of spring/with all your levers thrown to max, hearing the long bones of the trees stretch and crack\.

Serena Katt's grandfather, whom she knew as Opa, was a 'Sunday's Child', one of the lucky ones for whom everything always went right. Opa left a brief account of his childhood and teenage years, but it is opaque, a story of prizes won and boyish adventures. In Sunday's Child, Serena Katt interrogates Opa's version of his life. Was it really so innocent? Did he really not know what the Nazis were doing? He joined the Hitler Youth at the age of ten, swearing an oath of loyalty to the Fuhrer. From then on the games he played were actually military training, designed to produce a 'new German youth ... violent, domineering, unafraid, cruel ... which the world will fear'. At seventeen, in the final desperate days of the war, he is called up but his luck holds. He is sent home and thus survives the war.

Sunday's Child marks the debut of a remarkable graphic novelist. Serena Katt's book is powerful, eloquent and moving, and her drawing is superb.