Three new books you might have missed.
Bridget got me into this mess, and I’ve been waiting 14 years for her to get me out of it, writes Clémence Sebag.
Editor Sam Jordison says his book is not "an exercise in laughing at neglect" but a tough look at the nasty side of British capitalism written by the victims - for the victims.
It’s worth remembering here that many of those women who committed crimes could not resort to the time-worn excuse that they were “following orders”. They were not.
Donne is so damn sexy that he will always seem modern. Marvell is the greatest political poet in the language (always excepting Shakespeare). Yet Herbert lived a quiet life: born in 1593, he died far too prematurely, in 1633.
Like many “leftish” Brits who crossed the Atlantic to criticise imperial America from the belly of the beast, Cockburn soon discovered that America barely exists.
Like many couples, they communicated in a private language, a sort of nursery camp in which they were cast as the “Animals”.
“There are so many questions and as many answers again.”
In this article originally written on 2nd September 1994, Sean French wonders why Tom Clancy was hardly ever discussed at all during his lifetime.
Damian McBride is a bastard. And, unusually for a memoirist, he’s very keen to let you know that from the start, writes Helen Lewis.
This is an extended paean to an era whose ethos and moral purpose navigated the transition from the chaos of the Industrial Revolution to the equanimity of late-Victorian Britain.
Much more than a Chinese Anne Boleyn, Cixi engineered a palace coup to place her young son on the throne at the age of just 25.
The critics' verdict on David Vann, William Boyd and Damian McBride.
After the Booker Prize's announcement that it will accept English-language across the globe, the Goldsmiths Prize occupies a unique position. Its debut shortlist was revealed this morning.
What is it that particularly irks King about a film that was so universally acclaimed?
Stripping back an already pared-down style to the point of blandness.
David Gilmour seems to be fond of authors, and he says he loves their work — provided they are male, white, and very much like him. Here's why he's wrong.
Is feminism capable of addressing the differences between women, as well as those between women and men?
British elections used to be heroically corrupt.
The first full translation of a reclusive Italian poet’s philosophical “hotchpotch” is a major event in the history of ideas.
Marina Benjamin is impressed by the storytelling and cool-headed analysis in Maxim Leo's Red Love: the Story of an East German Family.
The critics' verdicts on Stephen King, Sathnam Sanghera and Maxim Leon.
A book where even the phrase "You are so grounded" takes on significance.
The British novel, at its best, is engaged, liberal, highly informed, secular, sceptical and above all humane.
Brock convincingly disabuses readers of the notion of a “golden age” of journalism in the postwar period. But he often doesn't go far enough.
I set off along The Broken Road laden with expectations that I would have to make allowances. Yet almost from the off, I realised that I would have no use for these.
Three new books you may have missed.
In his essay last week, Jonathan Franzen complained about the "yakkers and tweeters and braggers" who publicise their books through "Jennifer Weiner-ish" self-promotion. Now, Jennifer Weiner replies.
Over its ten storeys, the Library of Birmingham houses an art gallery, a children’s area, a multimedia centre, two cafés, a music library, a performance space, a theatre, a restaurant, terraces with herb gardens and more.
Even the cleverest politicians make mistakes.