E. Annie Proulx was 56 years old when her first novel, Postcards, was published in 1991. Since then, she has made up for lost time. The Shipping News appeared in 1993, and snatched up the...

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Attending Poppy: David Grand

Christopher Tayler, 9 December 1999

In its fifties heyday 7000 Romaine was the operations centre of Howard Hughes’s organisation, and lent its name to an unusual document known as the ‘Romaine Street Procedures...

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In the great quilted cento that is Moby-Dick, there is a passage which might be interpreted as Melville’s response to James Barry’s 1776 engraving The Phoenix or the Resurrection of...

Read more about O brambles, chain me too: Life and Vowels of Andrew Marvell

Two Poems

Neil Rollinson, 25 November 1999

EntropyYour coffee grows cold on the kitchen table,which means the universe is dying.Your dress on the carpet is just a dress,it has lost all sense of you now.I open the window, the sky is darkand...

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Translation is often thought to be impossible, an ideal, hopeless task. What we get in its name is a pale substitute, a distant echo of a lost original. ‘A poem,’ Don Paterson says in...

Read more about Other Ways to Leave the Room: Antonio Machado

‘I thirst for his blood’: Henry James

Ruth Bernard Yeazell, 25 November 1999

Henry James was a generous correspondent in more senses than one, but his fellow writers may have found some of the Master’s letters rather exasperating. ‘I read your current novel...

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Western curiosity about other lands has a long history as a literary phenomenon – its fashionable origins are generally dated to the Grand Siècle, the time of the voyages to Mughal...

Read more about A Ripple of the Polonaise: work of the Nineties

Two Poems

John Ashbery, 25 November 1999

The Gods of Fairness The failure to see God is not a problem God has a problem with. Sure, he could see us if he had a hankering to do so, but that’s not the point. The point is his concern...

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M for Merlin: Chrétien de Troyes

Helen Cooper, 25 November 1999

The season was spring, trees Were sprouting leaves, meadows Were green, every morning Birds sang in their own Sweet language, and the world was joyful. And the son of the widowed lady Living...

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Brattishness: Henry Howard

Colin Burrow, 11 November 1999

Although Surrey’s surviving poems can be read in an afternoon, they represent a major achievement for someone whose life was cut short (literally: he was beheaded) at the age of 30. He...

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Chevril: novels on South Africa

J.D.F. Jones, 11 November 1999

The Anglo-Boer War broke out on 11 October 1899. Two and three-quarter years later, at a conservative estimate, 22,000 Britons, 25,000 Boers and at least 12,000 Africans were dead: Anglo-Boer...

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Diary: Judges’ Lodgings

Stephen Sedley, 11 November 1999

In the pocket of my dinner-jacket, because I can’t bring myself to throw it away, is a slip of paper bearing in a neat italic hand the words ‘I expect you have remembered to ask the...

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Two Poems

Charles Simic, 11 November 1999

Past-Lives Therapy They explained to me the bloody bandages On the floor in the maternity ward in Rochester, NY, Cured the backache I acquired bowing to my old master, Made me stop putting...

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Hasped and Hooped and Hirpling: Beowulf

Terry Eagleton, 11 November 1999

Writing in 1887 of the proposal to establish an Anglo-Saxon-based school of English at Oxford, the moral philosopher Thomas Case protested that ‘an English School will grow up, nourishing...

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Among the Antimacassars

Alison Light, 11 November 1999

Flush becomes a ‘nobody’, an ambiguous fantasy of physical emancipation which, like Virginia Woolf’s notion of androgyny, tries to transcend human sexuality and its relentless polarising of masculine...

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Günter Grass stands so prominently in the line of fire of Germany’s still polarised and politicised cultural life, and has been sniped at so often since The Rat (1986) – A Wide...

Read more about Take a pig’s head, add one spoonful of medium rage: the poetry of Günter Grass

Antic Santa: Nathan Englander

James Francken, 28 October 1999

A nervous young lawyer leaves a rabbi’s house with a sinking feeling. The arguments that he had prepared now seem hopeless: he couldn’t persuade the immigrants that their...

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Two Poems: ‘Fruitility’

Tony Harrison, 28 October 1999

Fruitility What a glorious gift from Gaia, raspberries piled on papaya, which as a ruse to lift my soul I serve up in my breakfast bowl, and, contemplating, celebrate nature’s fruit, and...

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