Derwent May is a novelist, and Literary Editor of the Listener.
I sometimes lie in the darkness Glad there is nothing I can see To blot the pictures in my memory: Sunlight in a fallen tree Where I hung on the wilting branches; Woodlarks circling in the sky Or folding like a bell into the heather; Blue light hardening to die
Out of which there hurry faces, Lips, smiles, a sudden frown, A body white in the bracken, Raindrops where the leaves lay brown,...
There is a story that Gershom Scholem, the scholar of Jewish mysticism, was being introduced at a lecture in New York. Mysticism, the introducer said sarcastically, is nothing; but a history of...
Edwin Mullhouse etc is by far the most interesting and inventive of the three novels under review. It is also, with all its knowing brilliance, the most irritating – relentlessly clever,...
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