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Slightly Foxed Issue 70
  • ISBN: 9781910898574
  • Pages: 96
  • Dimensions: 210 x 148mm
  • Illustrations: B/W
  • Publication date: 1 June 2021
  • Producer: Smith Settle
  • Cover Artist: Nicholas Hely Hutchinson, ‘From Mupe Bay to St Aldhelm’s Head’ (detail), oil on canvas
  • ISSN: 1742-5794
Made in Britain

Slightly Foxed Issue 70

‘Tigers at the Double Lion’


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The independent-minded quarterly that combines good looks, good writing and a personal approach. Slightly Foxed introduces its readers to books that are no longer new and fashionable but have lasting appeal. Good-humoured, unpretentious and a bit eccentric, it’s more like a well-read friend than a literary magazine.

In this issue

Tim Mackintosh-Smith returns to Burgess’s Malaya • Margaret von Klemperer climbs Mount Kenya • David Gilmour is delighted by Tunbridge Wells • Olivia Potts learns from a home cook • Jim Ring takes the tiller with the Coot Club • Amanda Theunissen sets out for Trebizond • Jonathan Smith meets Silas Marner • Lesley Downer goes language-hunting in the Karakorum • Jonathan Keates revisits John Moore’s England, and much more besides . . .

Tigers at the Double Lion • TIM MACKINTOSH-SMITH

Anthony Burgess’s Malayan trilogy

‘Delighted’ of Tunbridge Wells • DAVID GILMOUR

Richard Cobb, Still Life

Food without Shame • OLIVIA POTTS

Laurie Colwin’s cookery books

When in Rome . . . • ROBIN BLAKE

Robert Graves, I, Claudius & Claudius the God


Rose Macaulay, The Towers of Trebizond

All’s Well that Ends Well • JIM RING

Arthur Ransome, Coot Club & The Big Six

An American Childhood • MARKIE ROBSON-SCOTT

Eda Lord, Childsplay

England, Their England • JONATHAN KEATES

John Moore, The Waters under the Earth

Unravelling Burushaski • LESLEY DOWNER

E. O. Lorimer, Language Hunting in the Karakorum

The Joy of Sex • DEREK PARKER

The memoirs of Casanova

A Place to Call His Own • SUE GEE

V. S. Naipaul, A House for Mr Biswas


Felice Benuzzi, No Picnic on Mount Kenya

Wheels of Fortune • JONATHAN SMITH

George Eliot, Silas Marner

What We Have Lost • JIM CRUMLEY

Gavin Maxwell, Ring of Bright Water

Hearing Distant Thunder • GILLIAN TINDALL

The novels of Rachel Ferguson

What’s in a Name? • ANTHONY QUINN

On naming fictional characters

About Slightly Foxed

The independent-minded quarterly that combines good looks, good writing and a personal approach. Slightly Foxed introduces its readers to books that are no longer new and fashionable but have lasting appeal. Good-humoured, unpretentious and a bit eccentric, it’s more like a well-read friend than a literary magazine. Read more about Slightly Foxed.

Slightly Foxed Issue 70: From the Editors

Looking back over the past strange and difficult months, it’s cheering to see some of the good things that have come out of the ‘new normal’. One is Bookshop.org, a website launched last autumn...

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Tigers at the Double Lion

While staying recently in Chiswick, I went on a literary pilgrimage to Glebe Street, where Anthony Burgess and his wife Lynn lived in the 1960s. I wasn’t sure what I would do when I got to No. 24....

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‘Delighted’ of Tunbridge Wells

Richard Cobb’s first book in English was A Second Identity (1969), a title he chose to show how a middle-class Englishman became not just a historian of France but a historian who effectively...

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Food without Shame

In my baking cupboard, at the very back of the top shelf, there is an open bag of wheatgerm. It has survived one house move and more than six years of ownership, and it is depleted by only one...

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When in Rome . . .

The two books take the form of the intimate memoirs of Claudius himself, telling of his unlikely ascent to the imperial throne, and his surprisingly successful thirteen-year reign. Previously he had...

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The Shining City

Picture the scene: a heavyweight London literary event in the 1930s. Two well-known women novelists, chatting. ‘My novels won’t live, Ivy,’ says Rose Macaulay to Ivy Compton-Burnett. ‘Yours...

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All’s Well That Ends Well

Children, as any parent will tell you, are innocent beings whose sensibilities it is the first duty of every parent to protect. They are sensitive, impressionable marshmallows, easily swayed, all too...

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An American Childhood

Childsplay was published in 1961. It was Eda Lord’s first novel, though now it would probably be called a memoir, and is an account of her childhood (the first-person narrator is unnamed), starting...

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England, Their England

At the time of writing, the town of Tewkesbury, in the north-west corner of Gloucestershire, has been cut off by the flooding of its four rivers: the Severn and Avon, at whose confluence it stands,...

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Unravelling Burushaski

When I was young I thought I knew exactly where the real Shangri-La was. It was the land of Hunza, in north-west Pakistan, or if not, then Gilgit or Chitral, and those magical names remained with me...

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The Joy of Sex

In the late 1780s the librarian at the Bohemian castle of Dux, fifty miles from Prague, was trying to finish his autobiography. His employer, Count Joseph Karl von Waldstein, chamberlain to the...

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A Place to Call His Own

‘He had thought deeply about this house, and knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted, in the first place, a real house, made with real materials. He didn’t want mud for walls, earth for floor,...

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Peak Experience

I have a childhood memory of being ill in bed, bored and grumpy until my mother came up with an idea of genius. This must have been in late 1953 or 1954 because we had a children’s version of The...

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Wheels of Fortune

When publicly embarrassed by how poorly read I am, and especially so when being pressed by my family, I often claim to be rereading a book because ‘it’s so many years now since I first came...

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What We Have Lost

Ring of Bright Water caught me off guard. Gavin Maxwell’s memorial to a year of his life shared with an otter and glorious secular hymn to the West Highland seaboard of Scotland hit me between the...

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Hearing Distant Thunder

A friend at college many decades ago was the daughter of a respected Kensington GP who was deeply involved in the history of the area. On one occasion when I was visiting she mentioned that her...

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What’s in a Name?

I was once interviewing Kingsley Amis when he mused, apropos of nothing, ‘Quinn . . . a Manx name, isn’t it?’ I mumbled that I thought it was Irish myself, since that’s where my forebears...

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