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It’s easy to read the short stories in this anthology in dialogue with one another, as they explore what it means to be unspeakable.
Roy’s follow-up to her Booker-winning sensation The God of Small Things has been twenty years in the making.
Camilla Whitehill’s debut play is short, but it sure packs a hell of a punch.
These two refreshing, unconventional adaptations exemplify the wonder of the London Film Festival, writes Eleanor Franzén.
This exploration of Victorian responses to the telegraph is wonderfully thought-provoking, writes Eleanor Franzén.
Eleanor Franzén is a lit fest sceptic. So what happened when she attended her first?
For a play about a suicidal woman, Terence Rattigan’s play is remarkably funny.
The last time I wrote, my uncle was dying.
It is spring, and the cherry trees are flowering. It’s the wrong time of year for dying.
Hubert, a graphic novel by Belgium’s Ben Gijsemans, depicts a lonely human finding solace in art but unable to connect to another human, even one as lonely as he is.
Florence Keith-Roach’s Eggs, which has just finished its run at the VAULT Festival, is the mark of an impressive talent.
It took ten minutes—probably less—for In the Night Time (Before the Sun Rises), Nina Segal’s debut play about the ethics of parenthood, to break my heart.
As Penguin announces the publication of a newly discovered Beatrix Potter manuscript, Eleanor Franzén looks at the surprisingly sinister forces at work in the beloved author’s tales.
Internet book reviews are a wonderful thing. But if you’re going to write a review, writes Eleanor Franzen, there are a few ground rules that you ought to follow.
In the publishing world, only one thing can compete with the excitement of the end-of-year book list: the most-anticipated list.
Morgan Lloyd Malcolm’s new play is a study of toxic girlhood friendships and—perhaps more interestingly—their repercussions later on in life. It is gripping, draining and oddly invigorating.