Books that will bring the beauty of Derbyshire’s rolling hills alive.
By the standards of the day, Ulysses was extremely sexually explicit.
Henri Lehmann, portrait of Franz Liszt, 1839.
This beautiful and sophisticated work is one of the best-loved, most enduring pieces in piano repertoire.
Visitors being taken by boat to Agatha Christie’s house, Greenway, on the River Dart.
From Emile Brontë’s West York Moors to the mining town where DW Lawrence set Sons and Lovers, there is much literary heritage to be discovered all over the UK.
Portrait of the writer Vernon Lee by John Singer Sargent.
There are reasons many female writers chose to publish under male pseudonyms. Republishing their books under their female names denies them agency.
Stella Maria Sarah Miles Franklin photographed in 1901.
The Women’s Prize for Fiction has just published 25 literary works by female authors with their real names for the first time. Could we do the same for Miles Franklin and Henry Handel Richardson here?
Alexander Mark Rossi
Moral prudishness pushed Thomas Hardy and George Eliot to develop more creative and thoughtful writing practices.
Tennessee Witney via Shutterstock
And every one of them has a happy ending.
A portrait of George Eliot at 30 by Alexandre-Louis-François d'Albert-Durade. Her masterpiece Middlemarch is often claimed to be the greatest novel in the English language.
Henry James called her a ‘great, horse-faced bluestocking’. On the 200th anniversary of her birth, we celebrate George Eliot, a literary trailblazer with an endless appetite for ideas, living in a patriarchal time.
George Eliot (1819-1880), aged 30.
Alexandre-Louis-François d'Albert-Durade/National Portrait Gallery
Born the same year as Queen Victoria, Eliot faced similar life choices to many young women today
Vladimir and Vera Nabokov in 1969.
Giuseppe Pino, Wikimedia Commons
From Tolstoy to Mark Twain, the most famous writers owe many words of thanks to their long-suffering wives.
Let’s critique the literary canon, but we shouldn’t throw the Brontës out with the bathwater.
The Brontë Sisters, by Patrick Branwell Brontë, circa 1834.
Like it or not, the literary canon is part of the cultural capital of the West. Universities that choose not to teach it – or refuse to critically engage with it – are actually disempowering students.