Poem: ‘Scotch’

Ruth Padel, 14 November 1996

The fox you didn’t know you had in your front garden is craning his velour neck from the hedge at two in the morning to see what he doesn’t often get a glimpse of, that moonspark on a...

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Il n’y a pas de Beckett

Christopher Prendergast, 14 November 1996

‘You’re on earth, there’s no cure for that,’ says Hamm to Clov in Endgame. This is sometimes taken as a summary of what is alleged to be the distinctively bleak Beckettian...

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Marksmanship

John Sutherland, 14 November 1996

Earlier this year it was announced that Patricia Cornwell, America’s newest Queen of Crime, had defected from Scribner (the publisher who ‘discovered’ her) to Putnam. In...

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Nice Guy

Michael Wood, 14 November 1996

Rehearsing his part in a production of The Birthday Party at Scarborough, the young Alan Ayckbourn asked Harold Pinter for a little more information about the fictional character. Pinter said:...

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Poem: ‘Shiochie’s Hill, Dunkeld’

John Burnside, 31 October 1996

I want to begin again, climbing through beech roots and gulls to the hill of the fairies, to nest with the rooks, to sleep amongst broken yews, to crouch in the dark of the ice house, close to...

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Where am I?

Greg Dening, 31 October 1996

There has never been a ‘Pacificism’ to go with Orientalism, the South Seas having always seemed more luscious than mysterious. The obligations felt by the ‘civilised’ to...

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Cold Front in Arden

Michael Dobson, 31 October 1996

Does anyone still think Shakespeare’s comedies provide happy endings for their heroines? Come to that, does anyone still think Shakespeare’s comedies have either ‘happy...

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Docility Rampant

Margaret Anne Doody, 31 October 1996

Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1689-1762) is known to us as the author of travel writings, witty poems and remarkable letters. If it were not for Isobel Grundy’s diligent work in the archives,...

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The Rear-View Mirror

Michael Hofmann, 31 October 1996

Nothing in me wants to believe – nothing in the book makes me want to believe – that The End of the Story is a performance, but just for that reason I have to begin by saying what a...

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Doing Heads

Adam Phillips, 31 October 1996

In their Introduction to the Picador Book of the New Gothic, Patrick McGrath and Bradford Morrow proposed a familiar kind of progress myth to help us find our way around the New Gothic; the old,...

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When Emerson wrote to Whitman that there must have been ‘a long foreground’ preceding the composition of Leaves of Grass, he expressed the curiosity every reader feels when coming upon...

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Only the Drop

Gabriele Annan, 17 October 1996

A man in a Thurber cartoon asks a woman: ‘But Myra, what do you want to be enigmatic for?’ Or words to that effect. The question kept coming into my head as I read Beryl...

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Getting to Tombstone

Dinah Birch, 17 October 1996

Volumes of short stories do not get into the bestseller lists, but Georgina Hammick’s first collection. People for Lunch (1987), did so at once. It can hardly have been the subject-matter:...

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Rat Poison

David Bromwich, 17 October 1996

Martha Nussbaum is a classical scholar and moral philosopher who in several books and a great many essays has advanced a thesis about the cognitive power of emotions. Feeling, she says, is part...

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Prussian Blues

Fredric Jameson, 17 October 1996

Can there be literature after reunification? It strikes one as something of a science fictional question. Philip K. Dick, indeed, posited a future world in which the Axis powers had won World War...

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England’s Troubles

Frank Kermode, 17 October 1996

The author, now about forty, has long since shown how easy he finds it to be a success in the world. As magazine editor, television producer, businessman, he has made money without great effort....

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Poem: ‘The Wind Dog’

Tom Paulin, 17 October 1996

A sound cento for the fiftieth anniversary of Radio Three I married a tinker’s daughterin the town of Skibbereenbut at last one day she galloped awaywith me only shirt in a paper bagto the...

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Two Poems

Neil Rollinson, 17 October 1996

My Wives I descend on Holborn’s escalator watching my wives pass by on the opposite side, smiling, waving at me; they shout in Swedish, Russian, Urdu, that they’ll always love me. Even...

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