All That Is by James Salter: How Sad Is That?
After reading Lolita I would never have presumed that Vladimir Nabokov was a pedophile, after reading The Wasp Factory I would never have presumed that Iain Banks was a psychopath, but after…
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After reading Lolita I would never have presumed that Vladimir Nabokov was a pedophile, after reading The Wasp Factory I would never have presumed that Iain Banks was a psychopath, but after…
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Whenever someone mentions Stoner, we writers turn misty-eyed. I can’t remember who, a few years ago, first urged me to read John Williams’ novel from 1965, but I know it…
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Earlier this year the Irish author Kevin Barry won The International Dublin IMPAC award, one of the richest and most eclectic book prizes, for City of Bohane, beating a global…
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Below is an excerpt from my review of Claire Messud’s wonderful new release, The Woman Upstairs, which appears in the most recent issue of the Dublin Review of Books and can…
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In 1895 Punch published a cartoon in which a curate has lunch with his Bishop. The Bishop remarks that the curate has a bad egg, to which the curate, rushing to placate,…
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I always feel guilty if I’ve given a writer a mixed review, who turns out to be in the flesh (as suspected based on her work), as wise-cracking, self-depracating, and…
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