London Review of Books

The new government and the army high command hope that the international legitimation sticks. But the question of what...

Maldoror honoured independence struggles in Africa and other parts of the world throughout her life. But she wouldn’t...

J.G Ballard was consistent in saying that his imagery came from deep within himself – until it crossed a certain...

These days prose poetry often appears, in anglophone poetry at least, as one option among many: free verse, formal...

Raphael Samuel​ set out his stall as a practitioner of ‘people’s history’. This was a capacious category: it...

The linked, binary stereotypes of the ‘good Italian’ and the ‘bad German’ have helped to define the way people...

When do we dig up the dead, and how? Can they be robbed? What if their deadness is final, and that’s all we need to...

O f all ​ the medieval people who sound as though they should be made up, Roland le Pettour, also known as Roland le Fartere, must be near the top of the list. An entertainer who worked for Henry II, Roland is recorded in several medieval registers as holding substantial tracts of land north of Ipswich. His yearly service to the king, at least as it has come down to us, was ‘saltum, siflum et pettum’: a jump, a whistle and a fart.

A mong ​ the swords, daggers, scabbards, spearheads, shields, helmets, belts, cuirasses, trumpets, tombstones and portrait busts of emperors that you might expect to find in an exhibition entitled Legion: Life in the Roman Army

Undergraduates gathered outside the New University of Lisbon’s Faculty of Human and Social Sciences last month. As traffic sped by on the Avenida de Berna, they used stencils and aerosols to spraypaint red carnations on the bare white walls, to mark the fiftieth anniversary of the Carnation Revolution.