He began to rub green-black paste onto the rib cage. It was ground peacock bone bartered for in a medina to the west or the south—the most potent healer of skin…

The flower that keeps on giving.

Who's that girl..? She has the quality of an Ingmar Bergman heroine. There's a Northern European subtlety and stillness to her that would not be out of place in Persona. I wish I had the looks of my mother in her younger years. 

If it’s the golden age for the telly then it’s also the golden age for the radio. Gone are the days when I have to hang about in the car park while a program ends on the radio. Streaming on-demand is a godsend!

Queer Eye. Don't let anyone tell you that this second go round is not as good as the first series. This latest dose of reality from the teev is an out and out pleasure:

I have a degree in English literature and I'm down with the likes of Ted Hughes and Seamus Heaney but I'm also a reading slut of the first order. Bodice rippers? Bring 'em on.