John Updike’s unfailing geniality and fluent industry appear to get on a fair number of nerves, of which he’s slyly aware. (Is there anything he isn’t slyly aware of? That foxy...

Read more about Caretaker/Pallbearer: Updike should stay at home

‘At night,’ Roland Barthes once wrote, ‘the adjectives come back.’ It’s an eerie and sobering thought for writers who have been trying to clean up their act during...

Read more about Sink or Skim: ‘The Alexandria Quartet’

No Strings: Pinocchio

Bee Wilson, 1 January 2009

Carlo Collodi knew that real children are not so innocent. No matter. The power of the Disney Pinocchio myth has little to do with the business of becoming honest, brave and unselfish – the surface moral....

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Travelling Text: ‘The Arabian Nights’

Marina Warner, 18 December 2008

In the countries of the book’s origin, the stories were considered popular trash, and excluded from the canon. In Europe, a similar sense that they had negligible status as literature came about because...

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Poem: ‘The Death of Petronius’

Mark Ford, 18 December 2008

(after Tacitus) Turning to Caius Petronius, there are a few things about him that deserve To be remembered: he liked to sleep all day, then devote his nights To business – or pleasure. Most...

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So Fresh and Bloody: Qiu Xiaolong

Caroline Fraser, 18 December 2008

In 2006 the Wall Street Journal declared Qiu Xiaolong’s first novel, Death of a Red Heroine (2000), one of the top five ‘political novels’ of all time for its indictment of...

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The greatest long poem in modern English letters began its life, unexpectedly, in the winter of 1798, in an uncomfortable lodging in Goslar, Lower Saxony, where Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy...

Read more about Regrets, Vexations, Lassitudes: Wordsworth’s Trouble

Like a throw of shot silk, its blue brilliance calmed by the iron, completed, so you can clearly see the alternative versions. This is the first thing,The first thing you feelWhen you happen to...

Read more about Poem: ‘Those No-Doubt-About-It Infidelity Blues’

Short Cuts: Books of the Year of the Year

Daniel Soar, 18 December 2008

Every November, the books pages of British newspapers perform what ought to be a helpful service: they present lists of the best books of the year, to remind us of what we missed. It’s part...

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Two Poems

John Burnside, 4 December 2008

St Hubert and the Deer He has come to a halt in the woods: snow on the path                and everything gone to ground...

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Elegy for Gurney: Robert Edric

Sarah Howe, 4 December 2008

Robert Edric specialises in historical backwaters. His novels, 19 to date, unfold in isolated fishing villages, colonial outposts or Alpine spa towns. What these places have in common is that...

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Poem: ‘Hollyhocks in the Fog’

August Kleinzahler, 4 December 2008

Every evening smoke blows in from the sea, sea smoke, ghost vapour of lost frigates, sunken destroyers. It hangs over the eucalyptus grove, cancels the hills, curls around garbage sacks outside...

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Montaigne had his own literary stalker. Eight years after the Essays first appeared in 1580, he received a breathless letter from a young woman called Marie le Jars de Gournay, who declared...

Read more about That Roomful of Words: Jenny Diski’s new novel

Old Dad dead? Thomas Middleton

Michael Neill, 4 December 2008

It is an excellent principle, in literature as in life, to judge a book by its cover; and there is much to be learned from the appearance of the new Oxford Middleton. Even as the blurb declares...

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‘Annie listless.’ They take her to Ramsgate    to try what seawater can do. On the beachhe picks up shells. He is still a collector....

Read more about Poem: ‘The Sea Will Do Us All Good’

Two Poems

John Ashbery, 20 November 2008

They Knew What They Wanted They all kissed the bride. They all laughed. They came from beyond space. They came by night. They came to a city. They came to blow up America. They came to rob Las...

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Nae new ideas, nae worries! Alasdair Gray

Jonathan Coe, 20 November 2008

Once a writer passes the age of 70, it’s hard to write anything about him that doesn’t sound like an obituary. The precedents for a sudden upsurge in creative energy after this age...

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Poem: ‘The Round-Up’

Kathleen Jamie, 20 November 2008

The minute the men ducked through the bothy door they switched to English, even among themselves they spoke English now, out of courtesy, and set about breakfast: bread, bacon and sweet tea. And...

Read more about Poem: ‘The Round-Up’