Poem: ‘Divorce Letter’

Taslima Nasreen, 8 September 1994

If you go any distance, you’ll no more be mine; you’ll become everybody’s playboy. Going to any body like a vulture picking at the form and flesh...

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His Only Friend

Elaine Showalter, 8 September 1994

In the midst of writing his biography of Philip Larkin, Andrew Motion was contacted by a spiritualist who claimed to have been speaking to Larkin in the Beyond; later Larkin sent a posthumous word...

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Something Royal

John Sturrock, 8 September 1994

It is all but thirty-five years since Albert Camus was killed, when the Facel Vega sports car in which he was a passenger went off the road between Sens and Paris. Among his things was found Le...

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Poem: ‘Twitchers’

Adam Thorpe, 8 September 1994

For every booming bittern there are ten, for every cliff-stacked gannet mass there is at least one with his clingfilmed lunch-pack, wringing his socks on St Kilda. This is surety of sorts. That...

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Hitting the buffers

Peter Wollen, 8 September 1994

In the summer of 1913, Jacques Copeau, the French stage pioneer, who had just founded his Théâtre du Vieux Colombier in Paris, wrote to Duncan Grant asking him to prepare the costumes...

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Diary: Taslima Nasreen gets them going

Carolyne Wright, 8 September 1994

‘Watch out for that Taslima Nasreen,’ warned my Bangladeshi friends. ‘She’s going to get into big trouble one of these days.’ We were discussing the uproar over...

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Young Wystan

Ian Hamilton, 8 September 1994

W.H. Auden once revealed his ‘life-long conviction that in any company I am the youngest person present.’ This confession, made when he was 58, perhaps raised a shifty smile among...

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Homage to Barbara Cartland

Jenny Diski, 18 August 1994

I could have left well alone; read the new autobiography and a novel or two and got stuck in. I’m not a great believer in the principle that talking to people is the best way of finding out...

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Poem: ‘New Bike’

Alan Dixon, 18 August 1994

You didn’t expect Jackson Pollock flicked over the frame. (We imagine fun-crusted machines and their operatives’ Overalls standing as sturdy as pachyderms’ legs.) Take a dekko...

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Poem: ‘Watches’

Alistair Elliot, 18 August 1994

I wear my father’s last but one wristwatch, having broken my own. Its crazed face, its wild cricketer’s strap always slipping off, its inability to keep up with the regular and not...

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What sort of man?

P.N. Furbank, 18 August 1994

According to Stevenson’s wishes, his letters were first presented to the public by his friend, the art historian Sidney Colvin. Colvin, described by Stevenson as a ‘difficult, shut...

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Art of Embarrassment

A.D. Nuttall, 18 August 1994

Humane, learned, un-showily stylish and at times moving in their tender intelligence, these essays by Anne Barton, ranging from a richly ‘mellow’ piece first published in 1953 –...

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Rachel and Her Race

Patrick Parrinder, 18 August 1994

When Lucy Snowe goes to the theatre in Villette, she is entranced by the performance of the great actress Vashti, a plain, frail woman ‘torn by seven devils’, a ‘spirit out of...

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The Great Escape

Philip Purser, 18 August 1994

That the literary name of one age can mean nothing to the next is both a truism and a comfort; it would be depressing to have to think that in 40 years, or even five, people might still be...

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Among the Picts

John Sutherland, 18 August 1994

Lewis Grassic Gibbon (the pen-name of James Leslie Mitchell) is put forward as his country’s great 20th-century novelist: the Scottish D.H. Lawrence. Gibbon’s reputation substantially...

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Four Poems

Robert Crawford, 4 August 1994

Us Silence parked there like a limousine; We had no garage and we had no car. Dad polished shoes, boiled kettles for hot-water bottles, And mother made pancakes, casseroles, lentil soup On her New...

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Inspector of the Sad Parade

Nicholas Spice, 4 August 1994

The Gulf of Paria, Naipaul’s mediterrnanean, lies between the coast of Venezuela and the island of Trinidad. The water is almost encircled by land, with only two outlets to the wider ocean....

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The South

Colm Tóibín, 4 August 1994

Even in the morning in that year the two-hour hotels were in bloom. The city was full of desire. It was hot. I stayed for a while in a narrow street near the Flamingo Park and went out some days...

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