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My Secret Dread

  • 20 November 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 30 September 1966 Levin (1928-2004) wrote only rarely for the New Statesman; he is most closely associated with the Times, which he joined five years after this appeared. In 1966 he was probably best known for his provocative interviews on That Was The Week That Was, though he was also the Daily Mail theatre critic – a job which surely carried the risk of encountering the odd spider. By the way, the verse at the end (I looked it up) is from G K Chesterton. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Women in Love

  • 13 November 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 9 July 1921 Lawrence's notoriety was well established by the time this appeared and he had been living abroad for some years. He always had defenders in England, though, and here West (1892-1983) firmly declares herself one of them. Her own life was unconventional enough: she was H G Wells's lover. The John Collier she refers to without enthusiasm was a leading portrait painter, while Sarah Gamp is a character in Martin Chuzzlewit. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Finger-Prints

  • 06 November 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 28 January 1933 The subject is as pertinent today as it ever was, and though you may not agree with the argument I doubt if you have seen it more eloquently or genially made. Lynd (1879-1949), who wrote under the pseudonym "Y Y", was a mainstay of the magazine for decades, and his essays, usually on frothier topics than this, were so popular they were routinely republished in anthologies. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Back to Anarchy

  • 30 October 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 18 June 1921 This article, which gives such a strong flavour of the anger, anxiety and disillusionment caused by the twin crises of Suez and Hungary, was unsigned when it appeared, but Johnson is credited in the contributors' file. Then aged 28, he had recently returned from a spell as the New Statesman's Paris correspondent; he went on to be one of its most distinguished and flamboyant writers and was editor from 1965-70. In the 1970s he became a Conservative. Selected by Brian Cathcart

A Dental Inquiry

  • 23 October 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 18 June 1921 Caleb Saleeby (1878-1940) was a doctor, a Fabian and one of the best-known medical writers of his day, but at the insistence of the editor, Clifford Sharp, his many contributions to the New Statesman, including this one, appeared under the pseudonym "Lens". Sharp was apparently worried that Saleeby's name was too closely associated with particular causes he had espoused, notably eugenics. So far as teeth were concerned, however, Saleeby’s judgement appears to have been pretty sound. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Attica – A Judgment on America

  • 10 October 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 1 October 1971 Forty-four people died in the Attica "riot", most of them in the storming of the prison ordered by the New York State governor, Nelson Rockefeller. The prisoners had taken hostages to press their complaints about overcrowding and inhumane conditions. This was one of a series of commentaries from America that "Johnny" Apple wrote for the New Statesman around this time – the others were mainly about high politics. A larger-than-life figure, and a pillar of the New York Times staff for 40 years, Apple died this month aged 71. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Am I an Irishwoman?

  • 09 October 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 5 November 1965 Brophy (1929-95) was a frequent contributor to the New Statesman in this period. Not long ago she would have needed no introduction: a novelist and critic, she was also a campaigner for human rights, animal rights and the rights of authors. For 20 years and more she was continually in the public eye, until in the 1980s she contracted multiple sclerosis. Her reputation may be due a revival. The husband she mentions is the art historian Sir Michael Levey. Selected by Brian Cathcart

The Wordster

  • 02 October 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 28 May 1965 It is easy to see how this freelance offering came to be published. Not only is it nicely turned, but it is also guaranteed to leave a lump in the throat of any writer or editor who came into this business the easy way. I can’t be sure what fee McGeown received from the New Statesman – the file simply says "Paid" – but the going rate for something of this length was 15-20 guineas. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Humbug

  • 25 September 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, March 17 1923 Editors naturally write best about subjects they know well, and sadly Sharp knew rather too much about drink, which a few years later would render him incapable of doing his job. But he was absolutely right about this piece of humbug, as we know well. Despite the efforts of Nancy Astor and the temperance lobby, teenage drinking would not go away. Selected by Brian Cathcart

East of Suez

  • 18 September 2006

Taken from the New Statesman archive, 22 May 1970. This was an early taste for New Statesman readers of what became a bestselling talent. Binchy, 29 at the time, was just beginning to make her name as a journalist at the Irish Times when this appeared, and it seems to have been a one-off - I can't find any other pieces by her in the magazine in the early 1970s. Her first novel would not appear until 1982. Selected by Brian Cathcart

Fidel Castro

The last revolutionary

The last revolutionary

Steve Richards

On Tory policy

Our future in their hands

Science

Religion and Darwin

Since the dawn  of time

James Macintyre

Miliband's dilemma

Brussels is back with a vengeance

Will Self

On Oscar Wilde

Where the Wilde things are

Film review

Bright Star

Bright Star (PG)

Books

Paul Auster

Invisible

Interview

Alain de Botton

The Books Interview: Alain de Botton

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