How to Be Both

by Ali Smith

George is appalled by history, its only redeeming feature being that it tends to be well and truly over.

It is lovely, being intoxicated, her father said the other night. It is like wearing a whole fat woolly sheep between me and the world. The smell of an old sheep in the house, George thought when he said it, its fleece all grassy, matted with excrement, would be hugely preferable to the smell of her father after he’s been drinking.

Is worth the same as money? Are they the same thing? Is money who we are? Is it how much we make that makes us who we are? What does the word make mean? Are we what we make?