LRB Cover
Volume 37 Number 19
8 October 2015

LRB blog 7 October 2015

The Editors
Return of the Repressed

6 October 2015

John Perry
Who will pay for the right to buy?

5 October 2015

Aaron Bastani
Labour’s New Members


25 August 2011

Stefan Collini
The Dismantling of the Universities

24 September 2015

Andrew O’Hagan
At Tottenham Court Road

20 November 2003

Slavoj Žižek
Henning Mankell

In the next issue, which will be dated 22 October, Katrina Forrester on happiness, Anna Della Subin on The Lives of Muhammad, Terry Eagleton on Edna O’Brien.


Wednesday 7 October at 6.00 P.M.

October Late Night Shopping

Sunday 11 October at 11.00 A.M.

LRB Screen Kids: Coraline

Thursday 15 October at 6.30 P.M.

The second Annual London Review Cake Shop Pickle Competition

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Ghaith Abdul-Ahad

How to Get to Germany

A Kurdish friend of mine in Sulaymaniyah in northern Iraq recently posted an image of a hand-drawn diagram on his Facebook page. With little arrows and stick figures and pictures of a train and boat or two, the diagram shows how to get from Turkey to the German border in twenty easy steps. After you’ve made the thousand-mile trip to western Turkey, the journey proper begins with a taxi to Izmir on the coast. An arrow points to the next stage: a boat across the Aegean to ‘a Greek island’, costing between €950 and €1200. Another boat takes you to Athens. More

Colm Tóibín

Sex Lives of the Castrati

Balzac’s Sarrasine tells the story of a young woman’s wonder at the strange appearance of an old man at a party in Paris. Balzac has tremendous fun describing the man. First his clothes: he is wearing ‘a white waistcoat embroidered with gold’ and ‘a shirt-frill of English lace, yellow with age, the magnificence of which a queen might have envied’. Then the face: ‘That dark face was full of angles and furrowed deep in every direction; the chin was furrowed; there were great hollows at the temples; the eyes were sunken in yellow orbits.’ More

Jenny Diski

Goblin. Hobgoblin. Ugly Duckling

Almost every day since I began writing these pieces I get a letter or an email from someone who has read or remembered and liked my work; they talk about the recent pieces about my cancer or my memories of my teenage years and my relationship with Doris Lessing, my older books, fiction and non-fiction, something they’ve read or remembered. They’re remarkably kind (my paranoia wonders, but I fight back the idea that the LRB’s editors hold on to the ones that are not so positive). They are well meant, offering as solace the people ‘out there’ in the real world who have enjoyed my work. More

James Meek

Real Murderers!

From the outside, 100 Piccadilly is rooted in the psychic space of London, England, or at least this part of London: plastic Union Jacks, haggard tourists, sleek servants, billionaires’ children, dark, hoarded property. The golden stone of its modest neoclassical façade, designed by Robert Edis in 1883, blends into the street front overlooking Green Park. If you had to guess what lay inside you might hazard a hedge fund, or a tax avoidance consultancy, or empty space, left to fatten. Experimental art and its practitioners, surely, left Mayfair long ago, if they were ever there. More

Short Cuts
Nick Richardson

At the Royal Academy
Brian Dillon