The bard pays homage to his two muses: his wife and his football club
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Plague Songs by Martin Rowson and Jon Tregenna
Hammering home the reality of the pickle into which we have been summarily purloined by a cabal of crooks, liars and thieves, writes Tom King
MARY CONWAY is disappointed by an incoherent show that fails to question stereotypical assumptions about the Soviet Union
JOHN McINALLY welcomes a rigorous class analysis of the history and exploitation of sectarianism by the Scottish ruling elite
WILL STONE, JAMES WALSH and MARIA DUARTE review Souleymane’s Story, Sunlight, Good Fortune, and After The Hunt
ALEX HALL recommends an exhaustive investigation of the means by which the Starmer faction assassinated the left
DAVID MORGAN recommends a refreshingly inspiring novel that features encounters with some tremendous women
SHAKESPEARE apparently made the most of plague-induced quarantine to write King Lear, which certainly puts my own productivity these past nine months into rather dire perspective.
Nor is it helped by Martin Rowson, irreverent cartoonist and jobbing poet, who took the opportunity over lockdown to pen an almost-daily torrent of stanzas in which he cast his impudent, ribald, deeply unsentimental gaze over the unfolding catastrophe.
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