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Andy Burnham’s senior aides warned him that meeting Donald Trump would be the political equivalent of white water rafting.
FOpening the jaws of our drop-forged wrench to their maximum to see how wide they’ll go, I see the old man’s last initial staring back at me, his mouth, in the wake of his last breath, propped closed with whatever’s to hand with breadth enough...
I ask for directions to Little Armenia and they say keep walking straight until you see a frail old dog trying to care for its children. Then a sharp left at the rusty Ferris wheel allegedly donated by the French. Then you’ll see a man wheeling...
After three sleepless nights, Vronsky stares at the wastepaper basket, the unread books on the shelf. Of course, he says, taking out his revolver. Of course, he repeats and shoots himself.
Jangling the keys to our new gaff, a poky flat up wonky cast-iron staircase above a yoga spot, I hoke around the local charity shop for all and sundry upcycled stuff because, of course, both of us genuinely loathe IKEA (after you aborted our...
John Berger: From Life, Tom Overton, Allen Lane, 2026, pp. 400, £25.00 John Berger was an essayist, novelist, journalist, memoirist and screenwriter, but he was originally and always an art critic, and as a critic he never hid the fact...
‘I sit at my desk at two a.m., and I feel like reality is staring at me, screaming at me. ‘Literally, screaming at me. Trying to tell me something if I could just listen hard enough. ‘That’s how I feel every day.’ – Demis Hassabis, cited in...