Commonly, people make parallels between children’s art and palaeolithic art, yet there is no concreted relation between the two. Just as we have no knowledge of a child’s interiority, we have no knowledge of the contexts of the in which Palaeolithic art was produced, nor of the inner worlds of its creators:

It’s a small painting, just 21x30cm, but powerful and amplitudinous. You don’t need to catch the Francisco de Zurbarán exhibition starting in May at the National Gallery to see it, it’s part of their permanent collection, in room 30.

Threads “After all, what acte gratuit, what vulgar outrage or moronic barbarity can compare with the black dream of nuclear exchange” Martin Amis, Einstein’s Monsters Threads (1984) is a television film that went against the grain of the medium itself, one of its very rare masterpieces, and one impossible to watch and be left unshaken. The feature-length drama portrays the build up to a nuclear attack on Britain, the attack itself, and its

Emily Brontë Heathcliff is an enigma who must and can only remain an enigma. The unknowability of his origins, the instability of his identity, are the whole point. To argue that he is ‘from’ anywhere, or is of this or that race, is fruitless. If he is ‘from’ anywhere, it is hell; the intention is that he be perceived as a supernatural, demonic being, and it's this that elevates the novel from Victorian melodrama to the Gothic. Wuthering Heights is informed by several differ

In my callow youth, I owned several garlic presses in succession. I thought they, and garlic itself, sophisticated. Growing up in 1980s rural Lincolnshire cooking suspicious foreign food was something that might land you in a burning Wicker Man, screaming for mercy from jeering, turnip-faced yokels. Now, at the risk of having a contract taken out on me by Alessi or Oxo Good Grips, I would urge anyone in possession of one of these nefarious devices to get rid of it, and to lea

An in depth-look at Gary Indian's trilogy of crime novels, Resentment, Three Month Fever, and Depraved Indifference.

"Energy is Eternal Delight" William Blake A still from Nikita Mikhalkov's 1980 film adaptation of Oblomov I Oblomov, the eponymous anti-hero of Ivan Goncharov’s 1859 satirical novel, is the living embodiment of inertia. He's widely considered to be the epitome of the ‘superfluous man’ of Russian literature of the 1840s and 1850s, but has none of the Byronism, glamour, or elegance of Turgenev’s Bazarov or Pushkin’s Eugene