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Slightly Foxed Issue 72
  • ISBN: 9781910898529
  • Pages: 96
  • Dimensions: 210 x 148mm
  • Illustrations: B/W
  • Publication date: 1 December 2021
  • Producer: Smith Settle
  • Cover Artist: Neil Gower, ‘Hunter’s Moon’
  • ISSN: 1742-5794
Made in Britain

Slightly Foxed Issue 72

‘the cat who was cleopatra’


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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

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

Don Marquis, archy and mehitabel

A Vintage Life • ADAM SISMAN

Anne Fadiman, The Wine Lover’s Daughter

On the Slime Line • FRANCES DONNELLY

Martin Cruz Smith, Polar Star

The Elephant Man in the Room • DANIEL CREAMER

Frederick Treves, The Elephant Man and Other Reminiscences

Death and the Duchess • LAURIE GRAHAM

Hugo Vickers, Behind Closed Doors

‘Hold on tight . . . and believe’ • LINDA LEATHERBARROW

Stephen King, Nightmares & Dreamscapes

Contemplating Eternity • MARIANNE FISHER

David Jones, The Anathemata

Death by Chocolate • MARTIN EDWARDS

Anthony Berkeley, The Poisoned Chocolates Case

Return to Sender • MORAG MACINNES

Undelivered Letters to Hudson’s Bay Company Men

A Guest of the Party • DEREK PARKER

Amor Towles, A Gentleman in Moscow

In Pursuit of an Ideal • SUE GEE

Joy Grant, Harold Monro and the Poetry Bookshop

Between Limerick and London • ANDY BOURNE

The novels of Michael Curtin

Hell and Good Intentions • SUE GILD

Kate Marsden, On Sledge and Horseback to Outcast Siberian Lepers

Bowled Over by Bunkle • ANDREW BOWDEN

Margot Pardoe’s Bunkle books

Not While It’s Running • POSY FALLOWFIELD

Isabel Colegate, The Shooting Party

Bedtime Stories • EWEN CAMPBELL

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.

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...

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the 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...

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A 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...

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On 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...

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The 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...

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Death 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....

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‘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...

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Contemplating 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...

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Death 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...

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Return 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...

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A 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...

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In 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...

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Between 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...

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Bowled 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...

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Not 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...

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Hell 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...

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Bedtime 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...

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