Gregor Dallas's book of Paris anecdotes, Metrostop Paris (very loosely based on the metro system) has a great chapter on Anaïs Nin, a writer I used to love, then decided was overrated, and now rather appreciate again. The story is mainly about her affair with Otto Rank, and fascinating it is too. But in the middle of it, a name appeared which I ( Read more... )

I fopr  know there are other Rebecca West fans reading this blog: you may want to have a look at a (seemlingly random) assessment of her critical abilities in the Guardian over the weekend. To my mind, it's a rather dull review, which for some reason is determined to answer the question, "What was her authority as a critic?" Is it me or is that a ( Read more... )

I asked the Baron what he thought about Amis v Eagleton. He was particularly annoyed about the way Eagleton had dragged Kingsley Amis into it all.

“Kingsley certainly got a bit more right-wing as he got older, but he didn't have prejudices like that,” said the Baron in his soft whisper. “He may have referred to someone as, you know, a raging queen, ( Read more... )

I got back to my little flat quite late last night.  The Baron appeared as I was climbing the stairs and asked me to join him for a whisky or several.

Going down to his lounge for a drink is like disappearing into the Twilight Zone, in a comfortable way.  “I'm reading the most incredible book right now,” I said by way of a conversation-starter, ( Read more... )

1. The Bishop of Lincoln is obsessed with my girlfriend's breasts. (Now how's that for a sentence you don't get to read every day.) He has told more than one erstwhile colleage at the Beeb about this interest, in unnecessary detail. ‘Last time she interviewed me,’ the right reverend apparently said, ‘I spent the whole time staring at her ( Read more... )