RUTH AYLETT recommends two anthologies: one that bears witness to refugee and immigrant experiences, and the other to our political relationship to water
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LYNNE WALSH laments the hard truth that Welsh rugby was bought out by English clubs
SETH SANDRONSKY appreciates a fresh take on a 100-year-old novel that helps to contextualise the current moment of conspicuous wealth, waste and climate chaos
A no-nonsense ex-Garda female cop, Scandi-noir’s newest flawed hero, the lure of Aussie gold, and unexpected decency in Silicon valley
JAN WOOLF doubts that soft-core musical is the best way to transmit an important story of heroism and resistance
Reviews of Ella Fitzgerald, My Morning Jacket, and Toria Wooff
GORDON PARSONS admires a version of Marlowe’s grim tragedy that strips it down to its gay essentials
When Cassy’s father fails to connect with his daughter — and misses out on
an evening in the Bitter End — a stranger’s self-mocking charm brings seething resentment.
Welsh Rugby: What Went Wrong?
Seimon Williams
Y Lolfa, £9.99
THIS is a hard book to digest, for a lifelong fan of Welsh rugby.
It is almost 200 pages of tough love, a forensic examination of the tribulations and internecine bickering that has beset the glorious game in the country where rugby is a nation’s heartbeat.
Seimon Williams's book should be read by every official of the Welsh Rugby Union (WRU), past and present. If I had my way, it would be hurled at most of them. This account of a deepening crisis will demonstrate to any true supporter that, although our devotion may remain boundless, we can acknowledge the harsh realities here.
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The phrase “cruel to be kind” comes from Hamlet, but Shakespeare’s Prince didn’t go in for kidnap, explosive punches, and cigarette deprivation. Tam is different.
ANGUS REID deconstructs a popular contemporary novel aimed at a ‘queer’ young adult readership
A landmark work of gay ethnography, an avant-garde fusion of folk and modernity, and a chance comment in a great interview
ANGUS REID applauds the inventive stagecraft with which the Lyceum serve up Stevenson’s classic, but misses the deeper themes