She is not writing specifically about women here: this is her version of Rousseau for Dummies.
He's in Agrigento, getting all excited about the geology again. Rather than the lemons.
A northern policeman, back in the Po valley after having his investigation in Sicily spiked, reflects.
Characteristically ignoring the fact that his metaphor is unhelpful to at least half his readership.
The title is taken from a slave song echoing Genesis 9:11-16. The clue is the line before.
Streets full of it. Please advise.
Not the Nash of Nash equilibrium, but one with a mind equally beautiful and a lot funnier.
For some reason surrealists are popularly thought to be obsessed with fish.
When Wordsworth wrote "Milton! Thou shouldst be living at this hour: England hath need of thee" he didn't mean that a few sonnets in accurate but slightly stiff Italian were what was wanted.
Obliterated by the Hunting Act 2004.