America has always idolised its entrepreneurs, even when it has proved a thankless task — if you can glamorise Bill…
There is always a special risk, says Alexandra Fuller, when putting real-life people into books. Not all those who recognised…
Some may question whether a review of a columnist’s work in the magazine in which that columnist’s work appears can…
Imran Khan’s Pakistan: A Personal History describes his journey from playboy cricketer through believer and charity worker to politician. His…
Those of us who have spent an embarrassing number of hours immersed in the Regency novels of Georgette Heyer have…
In Dreams From My Father, his exploration of race and roots, Barack Obama recalled the tales heard in childhood about the man who gave him his name.
Archbishop Edward Benson was the ideal of a Victorian churchman.
A biography of Ed Miliband has to try hard not to be the sort of thing one buys as a present for someone one avidly dislikes.
If he is remembered at all, A.J. Cronin is known now for Dr Finlay’s Casebook, which ran for many years on both BBC television and radio, and today resonates with the glow of a gentler past — when a GP happily made house calls, delivered babies, and served as shaman, shrink and confessor to his rural community.
I only ever heard my mother admit twice to fancying other men.
Very useful in modern conversation, Oscar Wilde.
Susan Gibbs begins her book by describing the death from cancer of her first husband after 13 years of happy marriage.
The misery memoir is the fad of the moment.
In 1999, Adam Nicolson published a very good book called Perch Hill: A New Life, about his escape from London and a break-down, after his divorce and a nasty mugging, to a farm in the Sussex Weald, close to Kipling’s house, Batemans.
Imagine a 77-year-old woman hanging around, say, Leicester bus station, telling people about her life. She confides her belief that she is under surveillance by the military. She maintains that she can ‘see the reality of the web of synchronicity in my life’. Showing off her special jewellery that ‘helps balance the chakras’, she reveals that ‘because I had a high metabolism and moved around a lot, I had no real [weight] problem until I was about 50’.
This is a lovely book. Judy Golding writes of her father —indeed of both her parents — with candour, humour and great insight and perception
Towards Mohammed Reza Pahlavi (1919–1980), the last or most recent Shah of Iran, there are two principal attitudes.
A. N. Wilson has a queasy feeling that he won’t be re-reading the works of G. K. Chesterton for a while
Hugo Vickers has already produced a well-documented and balanced biography of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother.
Caradoc King, the well-known literary agent, was adopted in 1948 as a baby into a family of three girls, shortly joined by a fourth, presided over by a difficult, unhappy mother and her feebly adoring husband.
This book, written by someone whose husband was for three years prime minister of Britain, is impossible to review.
Tom Bower’s fearsome reputation as a biographer preceded him in the Formula One paddock.