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: William Palmer meets archy the cockroach • Frances Donnelly is transported to Siberia • Daniel Creamer visits the Elephant Man • Laurie Graham follows the Windsors’ twilight years • Andy Bourne relishes the comedy of Michael Curtin • Marianne Fisher reads a poem for Advent • Martin Edwards follows the case of the poisoned chocolates • Morag Macinnes receives letters from Hudson Bay • Andrew Bowden is bowled over by Bunkle, and much more besides . . .
the cat who was cleopatra • WILLIAM PALMER on Don Marquis, archy and mehitabel
A Vintage Life • ADAM SISMAN on Anne Fadiman, The Wine Lover’s Daughter
On the Slime Line • FRANCES DONNELLY on Martin Cruz Smith, Polar Star
The Elephant Man in the Room • DANIEL CREAMER on Frederick Treves, The Elephant Man and Other Reminiscences
Death and the Duchess • LAURIE GRAHAM on Hugo Vickers, Behind Closed Doors
‘Hold on tight . . . and believe’ • LINDA LEATHERBARROW on Stephen King, Nightmares & Dreamscapes
Contemplating Eternity • MARIANNE FISHER on David Jones, The Anathemata
Death by Chocolate • MARTIN EDWARDS on Anthony Berkeley, The Poisoned Chocolates Case
Return to Sender • MORAG MACINNES on Undelivered Letters to Hudson’s Bay Company Men
A Guest of the Party • DEREK PARKER on Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow
In Pursuit of an Ideal • SUE GEE on Joy Grant, Harold Monro and the Poetry Bookshop
Between Limerick and London • ANDY BOURNE on the novels of Michael Curtin
Hell and Good Intentions • SUE GILD on Kate Marsden, On Sledge and Horseback to Outcast Siberian Lepers
Bowled Over by Bunkle • ANDREW BOWDEN on Margot Pardoe’s Bunkle books
Not While It’s Running • POSY FALLOWFIELD on Isabel Colegate, The Shooting Party
Bedtime Stories • EWEN CAMPBELL on reading aloud
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.
‘A wonderful literary magazine, a real little gem.’ Christ Stewart
- Buss, Helen M. & Beattie, Judith Hudson
- Berkeley, Anthony
- Marquis, Don
- Smith, Martin Cruz
- Creamer, Daniel
- Treves, Frederick
- Vickers, Hugo
- King, Stephen
- Jones, David
- Edwards, Martin
- Beattie, Judith Hudson & Buss, Helen M.
- Towles, Amor
- Grant, Joy
- Bourne, Andy
- Curtin, Michael
- Gild, Sue
- Marsden, Kate
- Bowden, Andrew
- Fisher, Marianne
- Graham, Laurie
- Fallowfield, Posy
- Sisman, Adam
- Pirkis, Gail & Wood, Hazel
- Leatherbarrow, Linda
- Pardoe, Margot
- Campbell, Ewen
- Reading aloud at bedtime
- Colegate, Isabel
- Donnelly, Frances
- Fadiman, Anne
- Gee, Sue
- MacInnes, Morag
- Palmer, William
- Parker, Derek
Slightly Foxed Issue 72: From the Editors
Wednesday 29 September was a red-letter day for us – the first time for eighteen months that we’d got together under one roof to record the Slightly Foxed podcast. Since the first lockdown in...
Read morethe cat who was cleopatra
In the 1920s, some of the more daring modernist poets further liberated their already metre-free verse by abandoning capital letters and conventional punctuation. One unfortunate poet had little...
Read moreA Vintage Life
Anne Fadiman’s memoir of her father originated as one of several ideas for an article that she pitched to an editor at Harper’s magazine. ‘I think I could tell the story of my father’s life...
Read moreOn the Slime Line
Those of us who prize a good literary thriller well above the price of rubies play a game resembling Fantasy Football. In our version we argue as to who are the top five thriller writers, then brood...
Read moreThe Elephant Man in the Room
It would appear that many people love ‘clinical writing’, a distinct genre that embraces doctors, diseases and patients. As a medic I tend to avoid this territory. Stories about medical practice...
Read moreDeath and the Duchess
I’m not usually tempted by biographies of royals, living or not long dead. They tend to be written in deferential tones and I prefer something neutral or, better yet, something with teeth....
Read more‘Hold on tight . . . and believe’
As I walked through the quiet twilight streets of the little Scottish fishing town in which I live, I unexpectedly came across two figures lounging on a pair of deckchairs. One was dressed in dark...
Read moreContemplating Eternity
Although I want to tell you about a poem, let us begin with objects. I would like you to come with me first to Birmingham, to visit the Staffordshire Hoard. These rich and intricately worked...
Read moreDeath by Chocolate
Five years ago, I visited Pablo Neruda’s former home in Valparaíso, now a museum. La Sebastiana is perched on a hillside with marvellous views out over the Pacific. When I reached the poet’s...
Read moreReturn to Sender
That white ceramic inkpot sitting snugly in the corner of my desk. The agony of a crossed nib. The difficulty, being left-handed, of following the direction ‘light on the up stroke, heavy on the...
Read moreA Guest of the Party
After two TV appearances and four radio interviews before 7 a.m., my wife and I were glad we could totter back to the Ambassador in Chicago or the Ritz Carlton in Boston and relax in our suite, lift...
Read moreIn Pursuit of an Ideal
On 1 January 1913 a new kind of bookshop opened in London. Located in a rundown street off Theobalds Road, it occupied three floors of a Georgian house, and was presided over by an idealist whose...
Read moreBetween Limerick and London
‘Any man who would see another man’s glass empty is a bastard.’ This is the first commandment of Stanley Callaghan, one of many wonderful characters created by Michael Curtin, a comic genius...
Read moreBowled Over by Bunkle
Bunkle began it for me. Searching for a gentle, undemanding get-me-to-sleep read, I happened on my wife’s childhood copy of a book called Bunkle Began It by Margot Pardoe. On a quick skim, I...
Read moreNot While It’s Running
My father used to tell a story about a Frenchman (the dependable butt of Edwardian jokes) being invited to some large estate for a shoot. Seeing a cock pheasant coming into the open and running...
Read moreHell and Good Intentions
It was the title that first attracted me, so many years ago. What adventure-hungry 13-year-old girl could resist On Sledge and Horseback to Outcast Siberian Lepers? My first love, Huck Finn, was...
Read moreBedtime Stories
I can’t remember if my parents read to me at bedtime. If they did, it left not a trace behind. They did, however, pack me off at the age of 13 to a traditional boarding-school where bedtime reading...
Read more
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