As a kid growing up in Scotland in the 1950s, Dennis O’Donnell was aware of ‘loonies’, and the men in…
It wasn’t easy being the daughter of the artist Avigdor Arikha. In this memoir, Alba Arikha mixes teenage fury with…
As a boy, Brian Sewell was unimpressed by opera but enraptured by pantomime which, he reveals in Outsider, sowed in…
Charlatan, fornicator, liar, inebriate, pugilist, Marxist, anti-Semite; Ken Livingstone has been called many things but never a writer. Actually, that’s…
This is a raw, untidy, ragged book. Well, grief is all of those things. On the other hand, Didion wrote…
Amiability can take you a long way in British public life. James Corden is no fool: he co-wrote and co-starred…
How to be a Woman is a manifesto memoir.
War correspondents aren’t like the rest of us: they can’t be.
When Julia Blackburn and her Dutch husband Herman move into an old village house perched on a cliff high above the Italian Ligurian Riviera they become part of a dwindling community in a landscape of forests and deserted villages with roofless ruins almost swallowed up by the riotous undergrowth.
People see William Rees-Mogg as an archetypal member of the Establishment.
Gully Wells is a spirited and amusing writer, the daughter of the American journalist Dee Wells and the stepdaughter of the famous philosopher Freddie Ayer.
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.
This is a lovely book. Judy Golding writes of her father —indeed of both her parents — with candour, humour and great insight and perception
I declare two interests. I own a dog, Lily, and I admire the New York Review of Books. What could go wrong?
When King Abdullah first started work on this political memoir two years ago, he can hardly have imagined how different the Middle East would look by the time of its publication.
Tom Frayn, says his son Michael in this admirable memoir, trod lightly upon the earth.
These two memoirs by ladies born into the Russian elite in the 1880s have both had to wait many decades before publication in English.
The metaphors that come to us when we are sick, trapped in the no-man’s land bet- ween consciousness and oblivion, are often the most vivid of which our minds are capable.
‘If you don’t come to terms with the ghost of your father, it will never let you be your own man.’ Here Christopher Ondaatje (brother of novelist Michael) combines his voyage of filial discovery with another quest: to pursue his obsession with a story he heard at his father’s knee, of a man-eating leopard.
Michael Palin is the meekest, mildest and nicest of the Pythons.
Journalists’ memoirs tend to be as transitory as the great stories they so lovingly recall.