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What excellent company you are!

I have been devoted to your podcast for over a year; it could be improved only by being more frequent. Every book I have ordered from you has been a delight; nothing disappoints. I receive your emails with pleasure, and that’s saying a lot. Slightly Foxed is a source of content . . . ’
K. Nichols, Washington, USA

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March News: A beautiful mother who adored him

March News: A beautiful mother who adored him

Greetings from Hoxton Square where the new quarter’s usual delightful flurry of orders is keeping the office foxes on their toes. Ordinarily we send out a newsletter just once a month, so you may be wondering why you’ve now received two in fairly swift succession. Well, in last week’s missive we rashly promised we’d be in touch again soon with some further suggestions for Mothering Sunday presents. We suspect that most of you have been extremely well-organised and have already placed your orders by now, but we did promise so if you are in need of some last-minute ideas you’ll find a few suggestions in this newsletter . . .

‘This was an exceptional shortlist . . .’

‘I had the privilege – alongside the wise and learned Caroline Moorehead and Ian Kelly – of helping judge this year’s Slightly Foxed Best First Biography Prize, which was last night awarded to Edmund Gordon for his superb The Invention of Angela Carter . . . This was an exceptional shortlist, in which every book showed not only thorough knowledge of its subject but deep and sympathetic understanding. And from the Tudor court, to the battlefields of the first world war, from a busy obs/gynae ward on the NHS to the august halls of the National Gallery, from a book-lined study to a Japanese love-hotel, we were thoroughly immersed in the worlds these books inhabit.’
2nd March 2018

‘I truly love your publication . . .’

‘This past Christmas my husband gave me a gift subscription to your publication (I’m sure my having strategically placed your catalogue in places I was sure he’d see it helped him know what I really wanted . . .) Opening my mail box and finding a package addressed to me is a simple pleasure that makes me smile . . . even more so now as it will be from SF. I must tell you I truly love your publication. I knew I needed a subscription as soon as I received a back issue you sent me (no. 50) last February. I’m thoroughly enjoying having digital access now, as well. I bring my iPad to my daughter’s dance classes and read to my heart’s content. Thank you all!’ L. Bastien, United States
- L. Bastien, USA
From readers
A Queer Parish

A Queer Parish

I was on a much-rehearsed trawl of the labyrinthine bookshop when I spotted it. A neat green-cloth country volume of the type churned out in their thousands in the 1940s and ’50s – years of hardship but also ones of optimism and dreams of a better future. I read the faded spine. A House in the Country by Ruth Adam, published by the Country Book Club, 1957. Now this is the kind of thing I like. My bookshelves sag under the collective weight of H. J. Massingham, Adrian Bell, Ronald Blythe and Cecil Torr, but Ruth Adam was new to me. ‘This is a cautionary tale, and true,’ the book begins . . .
SF magazine subscribers only
Wit and Truth

Wit and Truth

I first delved into Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s astringent and witty letters about fifteen years ago when compiling a Book of Days for the Folio Society. I had to find extracts for each day of the year, written on that day – so nearly all from diaries and letters. Towards the end of my search I was left with several stubbornly blank dates, and was even thinking I might have to write bogus entries, but she, along with Pepys, as it were saved the days.
SF magazine subscribers only

Out of the Celtic Twilight

A teenage boy is talking to his father in the library of their rambling Irish house. His father tells him to look at a particular picture; the moment he obeys, four armed men enter the room. But when he turns round, his father has vanished – apparently into thin air. So, in brilliantly dramatic fashion, begins Lord Dunsany’s The Curse of the Wise Woman (1933). As a novel it defies categorization, but if you imagine a John Buchan thriller with an overlay of the Celtic Twilight and Rachel Carson-style eco-prophecy you will be almost there.
SF magazine subscribers only

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