Welcome to the spring issue of Matter Out of Place

The week after first being asked to contribute to MOOP, I saw a father and son, walking their dogs through a Dorset field. I was deep in my notebook, grappling with uncertainty as I tried to write my first piece for the magazine. I was unsure about my skill with the pen, and as I watched the young boy wrangle with the dog lead I could do little but sympathise with him. Perhaps I considered Chasing Cow to be, at the time, my literary father. Encouraging when necessary, critical when appropriate.

But then the boy fell, tiny feet sliding in the mud. His hand slipped from the lead and as the dog bolted, my own thoughts began to run from the notebook in a frenzied blur, unable to be wrangled into shape by my brain, refusing to make sense on the page.

Panic struck me as the father ran after the beast, the grip on his own canine waning. I was still a literary child. Could this father catch the dog? Could Chasing Cow and MOOP catch me in my literary freefall? But, as I pon- dered, the dog ran into the next field and was trampled to death by a herd of cows.

Huzzah! I yelled. A father Chasing, Cows trampling. It could be nothing but a sign! I ran home, notebook in hand, and as I passed the crying child I shoved him with all my might, sending him flying across the field into a nettle bush in a final act of creative maturation. My inner child was shoved away just as the boy was and I felt ready to skydive through clouds of alliteration and simile. Who needs a parachute anyway.

On a serious note, metaphors have never been a strong suit of mine and I am beyond grateful that throughout MOOP’s history I have been able to practice them in relative safety. It has been nothing but a pleasure to be involved in such a magnificent project, and I am honoured to be asked to introduce this edition. Huzzah!

In the fictional corner of this issue of MOOP we have a veritable buffet, full to the brim with amusing-bouches to pile onto your cerebral sideplate. Skyler delights with a little slice of sci-fi, complete with alien ships and chiv- alrous captains that Asimov would be proud of. Jonah Corren takes us back to our childhoods with a wave of nostalgia about clip-on ties and schoolyard bullies. Bryony Moores-O’Sullivan moves us with a gentle rendition of our mothers and the act of hurling clay at siblings. And I, Stefan Matthews, have written a short piece that is mercifully light on metaphors.

In the non-fictional corner we have a dazzling smörgåsbord of provocative canapés to feed your ravenous intel- lect. Anna-Lille Dupont-Crabtree gives us a glimpse into the interpersonal connection between man and nature, mastery and mimicry, all from the view of her Netherlands flat. Thomas Bachrach brings to light a little-known Nazi megaplan that would have seen millions of Jews transported across the globe to Madagascar. Fred Warren explores the discreet charm of the American bourgeoisie as depicted in the stories of John Cheever and the films of Nicole Holofcener. Grace Crabtree gives us a glimpse into the origins of language-to-language translation, surprising us with connections between Mark Twain, French art historians, and South East Nigeria. Finally, Tom Beed discusses and critiques contemporary policing, touching on topics from the powerful ‘defund the police’ rhetoric to Mark Neocleous’s recently reissued book.

Happy reading.
Stefan Matthews