Articles...
Oct 5 2007
HE WAS the dapper cavalier of a new Ireland, which had slipped the ancient grip of priests, peat fires, black stout, poets, bogs, Blarney men, rebel songs and little people, to surge through the butt end of the 20th century as a Celtic tiger, exciting money markets everywhere....
Oct 3 2007
DEEP in the heart of the legendary Blowick end huddled the club’s die-hard supporters whose enthusiasm for football had long been tempered by a sense of grey reality....
Oct 2 2007
CELEBRATED raconteur Ned Sherrin was an accomplished broadcaster, writer and director....
Oct 1 2007
SHE was perhaps a modern woman and she spoke of the benefits of the pill and equal opportunities; but, in her writing, her smile and her curious stare, there was an understanding of old manners confronting new circumstances,...
Sep 28 2007
THE little boy, whose father left the glamour of football to hump sacks on the quayside, saw the big ships and the dangling hooks on the towering cranes, while listening to tales of the sea – particularly the adventures of the battleship Warspite in the Great War and Commander Edward Ratcliffe Evans, whose ship, The Broke, sank three German destroyers....
Sep 27 2007
SERIOUS newspaper journalists do not always step surely into the fizzier atmosphere of television’s topical shows....
Sep 26 2007
THERE was anger in the air and the clerk’s son inhaled deeply, becoming one of the working-class writers who dragged the novel from suburban lawns and tennis clubs to backs streets and factories....
Sep 25 2007
TO BE the ghost of King Zog of Albania was a strange role, but the writer, who had once sung the Lord is My Shepherd with Lord Beaverbrook, was not inclined to turn down challenging commissions....
Sep 24 2007
ECCENTRIC religious opinions, including his belief that his son, who had been killed in a landslide, was Christ on His second coming, hindered the glamorous man’s quest to be accepted as one of the world’s greatest explorers....
Sep 21 2007
IF A guitar-strumming minst-rel, with a hint of smoked haddock on his whiskers, was the father of an Abyssin- ian wire-haired trip hound, you might hazard the guess that he would not by calling have joined the weights and measurements department on the local council....
