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Duffy’s “Crush” One of the consequences of the publication of Carol Ann Duffy’s Rapture has been—at least so far as I’m concerned—to review her early love lyrics. The reception… Read More »Crush by Carol Ann Duffy reviewed by Barry Wood
Crush The older she gets,the more she awakeswith somebody’s face strewn in her headlike petals which once made a flower. What everyone doesis sit by a deskand stare at the… Read More »Reply to Barry Wood's review of Crush by Carol Ann Duffy
‘It seems increasingly likely that I really will undertake the expedition that has been preoccupying my imagination now for some days. An expedition, I should say, which I will undertake… Read More »Point of View: First Person Narration
‘Her going-away dress was of a light summer cotton in cornflower blue, a perfect match for her shoes, and discovered only after many pavement hours between Regent Street and Marble… Read More »Ian McEwan's Chesil Beach: Getting unzipped is no fun at all?
Late July and the grey tarmac was melting. A fat girl stole the cabbage white butterfly from my yellow bucket and squashed it because she could. Barefoot, my brother and I bickered over becoming Huck Finn. Bravely, we… Read More »Cul-de-sac
Wendy Mellor’s dad drove lorries and slept all day. We dug earth trenches and threw mud at his window like the war. Dazed, he woke up snarling in his vest. Anthony pretended to be… Read More »Cul-de-sac two!
I didn’t care for him at all. We were working on a project together and he told me to finish it up ready for class tomorrow because he wasn’t going… Read More »Colleagues by Duncan Lewison
‘The illusion is irresistible. Behind every face there is a self. We see the signal of consciousness in a gleaming eye and imagine some ethereal space beneath the vault of… Read More »Paul Broks: Into the Silent Land
Please don’t do that again.
‘For Gus the fearful things which lurk for most of us at the ragged edges of consciousness were mere flimflam rubbish and piffle before the wind. With agile innocence, he… Read More »Why Gus is great in The Other Side of You : Salley Vickers
Only there, the afternoons could suddenly pauseand when I looked up from lacing my shoea long road held no one, the gardens were empty,an ice-cream van chimed and dwindled away.… Read More »Carol Ann Duffy: Stafford Afternoons
I found her out thereOn a slope few see,That falls westwardlyTo the sharp-edged air,Where the ocean breaksOn the purple strand,And the hurricane shakesThe solid land. I brought her here,And have… Read More »Thomas hardy: 'I found her out there'
It is 1957. Once upon a long time ago a tall man with a broad Irish accent is stood at the head of his wife’s bed. On the… Read More »Death is a man's gaze looking down on a woman's body. By Cath Goodwin
When the Kelveys were well out of sight of Burnells’, they sat down to rest on a big red drain-pipe by the side of the road. Lil’s cheeks were still… Read More »Setting Three – Katherine Mansfield: The Doll's House – glancing resolution?
I haven’t always read books myself, but I have read poetry and liked it. John Keats is my favourite poet. He died when he was young of T.B. When I… Read More »John Keats By Cath Goodwin
Chapter 1 1801. – I have just returned from a visit to my landlord – the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country!… Read More »Setting Four: Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
‘Nil desperandum’ for John, my Walton Meteor ! Do not go gentle into that good night,Old age should burn and rave at close of day;Rage, rage against the… Read More »Dylan Thomas: Do not go gentle into that good night
While this exchange of pleasantries took place between the twoRalph Touchett wandered away a little, with his usual slouchinggait, his hands in his pockets and his little rowdyish terrier athis… Read More »Isabel Archer: The Entrance of Henry James's Portrait of a lady
Crush The older she gets,the more she awakeswith somebody’s face strewn in her headlike petals which once made a flower. What everyone doesis sit by a deskand stare at the… Read More »Setting Two: Carol Ann Duffy's 'Crush' from Mean Time
A Prayer in Spring Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers to-day; And give us not to think so far away As the uncertain harvest; keep us here… Read More »A Poem for Good Friday by Robert Frost
“Daniel” Daniel is travelling tonight on a planeI can see the red tail lights heading for SpainOh and I can see Daniel waving goodbyeGod it looks like Daniel, must be… Read More »Ps Elton John's Greatest Elegy?
You had moved my carpet bag from a cramped hot office to this one all parqueted glamour with pot plants. A notebook was open. Soft smudged pencil told me more about your… Read More »Dreaming of Carol Ann Duffy
Poor Winterbourne was amused, perplexed, and decidedly charmed. He had never yet heard a young girl express herself in just this fashion; never, at least, save in cases where to… Read More »Henry James: Daisy Miller
( NB: Underlining is unintentional! ) The soundtrack then was a litany – candlewickbedspread three piece suite display cabinet –and stiff-haired wives balanced their red smiles,passing the catalogue. Pyrex. A… Read More »Carol Ann Duffy's Litany
You could travel up the Blue Nilewith your finger, tracing the routewhile Mrs Tilscher chanted the scenery.Tana. Ethiopia. Khartoum. Aswan.That for an hour, then a skittle of milkand the chalky… Read More »Mrs Tilscher's Class by Carol Ann Duffy
Toni Morrison: Beloved 124 WAS SPITEFUL. Full of a baby’s venom. The women in the house knew it and so did the children. For years each put up with the… Read More »Setting In Fiction
Not every day you wake up wondering why you have spent all night riding around Rome’s secret squares on a Red Piaggio Scooter with an artic white fox. But I have. And I do…
‘The lives of the characters in this gently absorbing novel continue to resonate with the failures, possibilities, regrets and redemptions – consoled and mirrored by art – that we… Read More »The Other Side of You: Salley Vickers
‘I called, and John was very sweet, asking how I was feeling, how the memorial service had gone, how my father was. And I told him all that and then… Read More »Why Amy Bloom walks on water for me!
‘To look into the eyes of a wolf is to see your own soul.’ ( Leopold)
