Those people I have been talking about so far are or were well-known. Harold Boyer is the great man from my early life, his name is little known beyond the public school where he taught. That is to say, West Buckland School in North Devon. I was at school at West Buckland in the early […]
Honouring the Legacy of Brian Aldiss, Celebrating Extraordinary Realms in Science Fiction & Fantasy We’re delighted to reveal the shortlist for the inaugural Aldiss Award for World Building in speculative fiction. Our Chair of Judges, Allen Stroud, said: “The short list reflects our determination to find the very best stories that fire the imagination of […]
When I was caught with a demand for more income tax than I could manage to pay, I had to sell up our lovely Orchard House, swimming pool and all; I took my family to live in Moreton Road at Number 16, the last house in the street. There I began to write about a […]
Iris Murdoch was a highly successful novelist. She and her husband lived in North Oxford. She and I saw quite another ‘between books’, as they say. There was a time in China when I injured my foot and was quite lame for a day or two. Iris had dipped into her little store and given […]
Cape also lived in Russell Square. The Greene family were directors, related to Grahame Greene, whose novels everyone was reading. Cape threw a splendid party every winter. Desmond Morris would drive me up to London, where we would dine at the Gay Hussar before moving on to Cape’s entertainments, which lasted half the night. On […]
No, no, I was never a friend of Eliot’s. But I was being published by Faber & Faber when they lived grandly in a corner of Russell Square. There, thinking how staggeringly fortunate I was, I would talk to Charles Monteith, and was induced to go upstairs and talk to Eliot. My goodness! Eliot was at that time […]
Once I was demobilised from the British Army, I found myself, as many other men must have done, at a loss. So I got myself to Oxford, that celebrated seat of learning. It happened that I was reading Thomas Hardy’s novel, Jude the Obscure. I felt myself as ignorant as Jude, and as unwanted as […]
Going into the vast marquee at Doris Lessing’s funeral, I found an old friend. Old indeed, making his way on two sticks and somewhat deaf. In fact, this was my retired publisher, Tom Maschler, who had been in charge of Jonathan Cape back in my time with them. I will give one example – there […]
Oxford… a residence for fantasy, as it has been since – and possibly before – Max Beerbohm’s Zuleika Dobson, which appeared in 1911. As one sees here, many surprising connections could be made, some beyond the university. Hilary Rubinstein attended Merton College. Having graduated, he went to work for his uncle, Victor Gollancz, the publisher. […]
Among those whom Kingsley admired and always spoke of respectfully was C.S.Lewis, who had been his tutor. This, despite the fact that Kingsley was anti-Church while Lewis was profoundly Christian. Lewis was the embodiment of friendship, never thrusting himself or his point of view on anyone. One of my first meetings with him was in […]
