Feminists: it’s OK to be hot. But you knew that already, right?
With record numbers of us choosing to stay single, Bolick's new book explores what it means for a woman to build a rich life alone.
Danny Boyle, the man behind the Olympics and the upcoming Steve Jobs biopic, speaks to the New Statesman at the opening of HOME, Manchester's answer to London's Southbank.
The actor’s comments about the infantilisation of culture have caused a storm. Is he right to want to put away childish things?
The interviewer, Matthew Bannister – generally known for keeping conversations moving dizzyingly ever forwards – was unusually quiet.
Jonathan Strange is an oddly lacklustre affair, aimed, it seems to me, at a generation brought up on Harry Potter.
The films of François Ozon are polymorphously perverse.
The production makes it very clear what we are supposed to think, which sadly detracts from the variety and ambiguity the composer worked into his score.
From Kean to Dench, the best performers radiate an electricity that transcends the stage.
Sacks has written of showing “extreme immoderation” in his passions. This new book reveals them.
A refinement of his earlier work, Vann's new novel gives a socially determined take on how things fall apart.
This is the dark, nightmarish little voice inside every mother, the one we spend our lives trying to shut up.
Why I hate the pathetic prescribed quirkiness of Ikea's new bed-based coffee house.
"I'd like to thank Jimi Hendrix."
Because most Hollywood films are so bad at dealing with female characters, Mad Max: Fury Road stands out for trying. But it still uses lazy, sexist tropes and clichéd plot devices.
From the glorious July that I once spent deep in the Arctic Circle to the treacherous climate of central California.
The bones housed in the Fontanelle ossuary speak to the conviction that the obscure deserve comemmoration, too.
A new name and haircut doth not an alter ego make.
Is it the drugs or is it me?
The walking trees come from a tram
the size of several hundred dogs.
A morphine glade. (Unscheduled stop.)
Curiouser. The pain is veiled –
a hard look misted but not missed,
an apiarist in white mourning.
What does the success of the Féminalise Wine Competition tell us about wine and women?
(And forgives them for it.)
A Kanye West fan game that doubles as a cult recruitment tool?
Tom Humberstone’s weekly comic.
If Kate Atkinson's Life After Life pushed the boundaries of form, A God in Ruins is simpler - and tender.
Mark Cocker remembers the great naturalist's remarkable constellation of talents.
Coming in at three times the length of Paradise Lost, Carole Satyamurti's modern version of the epic is a remarkable achievement.
The Bible is, as Wilson’s title has it, the book of the people. We build our meanings together.
The latest book by anarchist anthropologist David Graeber reveals the technological age as one of total bureacracy.
For thrills, I would take that exit poll over Judi Dench and Jude Law any day.
It seems that Sher is never not speaking on the radio or being spoken about.