literature

248d

<p>The Enduring Legacy of Suetonius, Rome’s Most Controversial Biographer</p><p>"The imperial biographer Suetonius is an important source for the lives of the Caesars, but how reliable are his accounts based on gossip and sensationalism?"</p><p><a href="https://www.thecollector.com/suetonius-roman-imperial-biographer/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.thecollector.com/suetonius-roman-imperial-biographer/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.thecollector.com/suetonius</span><span class="invisible">-roman-imperial-biographer/</span></a></p><p>Suetonius at PG</p><p><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/2024" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/2024"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/2024</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/romanhistory/" rel="tag">#romanhistory</a> <a href="/tags/history/" rel="tag">#history</a></p>

Portrait of Caius Suetonius Tranquillus.

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248d

<p>CFP: 39th Annual Conference of the Eighteenth-Century Scottish Studies Society<br>9–11 April 2026, Philadelphia, USA</p><p>Papers are invited on any aspect of 18th-century Scottish history, thought, & culture, especially the notable 250th anniversaries in 2026, e.g. the role of Scots in the American Revolution, the publication of the Wealth of Nations, & the death of David Hume</p><p>Deadline: 10 Sept. Details in ALT-text</p><p>@litstudies </p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/history/" rel="tag">#history</a> <a href="/tags/culture/" rel="tag">#culture</a> <a href="/tags/18thcentury/" rel="tag">#18thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/culturalstudies/" rel="tag">#CulturalStudies</a></p>

ECSSS will sponsor its own panels at the American Society for Eighteenth-Century Studies meeting. Papers are invited on any aspect of eighteenth-century Scottish history, thought, and culture, but we would particularly encourage proposals for papers and panels relating to the 250th anniversaries of relevant events that occurred in 1776, such as the role of Scots in the American Revolution (especially in regard to Philadelphia), the publication of the Wealth of Nations, and the death of David Hume.

Details of the ECSSS-sponsored plenary speaker and the evening reception will follow in due course, along with information on any other aspects of the programme in which ECSSS are involved.

Because the programme for the ASECS meeting goes to press at the beginning of October, we have to put together the ECSSS programme by the end of the summer. Please act quickly in order to help us organize the programme in time.

Please email a title and brief abstract of your proposed 20-minute paper, along with a one-page CV, to Rachel Bani (rachel.bani@converse.edu) by 10 September 2025. Those submitting proposals for 3- or 4-paper panels should send the panel title and abstract as well as titles and abstracts of the individual papers and CVs of the presenters by the same deadline. Please ensure that any proposal include ‘2026 conference proposal’ in the email subject line.

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254d

<p>Get to Know Venerable Bede, the Father of English History</p><p>"The Venerable Bede was the foremost pre-Norman conquest intellectual in England, and perhaps the most important figure in Anglo-Saxon history."</p><p><a href="https://www.thecollector.com/venerable-bede-father-english-history/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.thecollector.com/venerable-bede-father-english-history/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.thecollector.com/venerable</span><span class="invisible">-bede-father-english-history/</span></a></p><p>"Bede's Ecclesiastical History of England" at PG</p><p><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38326" rel="nofollow"><span class="invisible">https://</span>www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38326</a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Painting "The Venerable Bede Translates John" by James Doyle Penrose (1862-1932)

Edited 254d ago

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45d

<p>It’s not the crack you expect.<br>It’s more a soft whump,<br>then an elegant leaving, like<br>a grand piano dropped<br>from a silent-movie window…</p><p>—Karen Ashe, “The Sound of an Iceberg Calving”<br>in SOUND OF AN ICEBERG: New Writing Scotland 37 (ASL, 2019)</p><p><a href="https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws37/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="asls.org.uk/publications/books/newwriting/nws37/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">asls.org.uk/publications/books</span><span class="invisible">/newwriting/nws37/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/globalwarming/" rel="tag">#globalwarming</a> <a href="/tags/environment/" rel="tag">#environment</a></p>

Karen Ashe
The Sound of an Iceberg Calving

It’s not the crack you expect.
It’s more a soft whump,
then an elegant leaving, like
a grand piano dropped
from a silent-movie window,
a slow-motion school bus
over a soap-opera cliff,
Falling Man falling
forever on prime-time news
then the kettle clicks to a rapid boil
as a small finger presses a button,
the screen flickers and blurs,
and the iceberg is replaced
by slimming ads and payday loans,
super-fast fibre-optic wifi,
high-speed trains, and the tea
bleeds into the water and milk
delivered unseen in early hours
from cows in distant misty pastures
stays fresh for nine days
in fat plastic bottles
that go in the recycling
and the baby shudders inside
half a month from completion
and the buy-now-pay-later sofa
is wobbly in the leg already
and the interest-free 42-inch telly is frozen
on an ad for wonga.com
and the dunked biscuit dissolves
in the tea in the time it takes
to change channels
and in some faraway dark cold country
of slavering bears and wandering herdsmen
the iceberg
is still
calving.

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248d

<p>In the Enola Gay<br>five minutes before impact<br>he whistles a dry tune</p><p>Later he will say<br>that the whole blooming sky<br>went up like an apricot ice…</p><p>—Alison Fell, “August 6, 1945”<br>published in The New British Poetry, 1968–88 (Paladin, 1988)</p><p>Hiroshima was hit by an atomic bomb on this day, 6 August, 1945</p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/hiroshima/" rel="tag">#Hiroshima</a> <a href="/tags/hiroshimaday/" rel="tag">#HiroshimaDay</a> <a href="/tags/atomicbomb/" rel="tag">#atomicbomb</a> <a href="/tags/enolagay/" rel="tag">#EnolaGay</a></p>

August 6, 1945
Alison Fell

In the Enola Gay
five minutes before impact
he whistles a dry tune

Later he will say
that the whole blooming sky
went up like an apricot ice.
Later he will laugh and tremble
at such a surrender, for the eye
of his belly saw Marilyn’s skirts
fly over her head for ever

On the river bank,
bees drizzle over
hot white rhododendrons

Later she will walk
the dust, a scarlet girl
with her whole stripped skin
at her heel, stuck like an old
shoe sole or mermaid’s tail

Later she will lie down
in the flecked black ash
where the people are become
as lizards or salamanders
and, blinded, she will complain
Mother you are late. So late

Later in dreams he will look
down shrieking and see

ladybirds
ladybirds

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247d

<p>BBC World Book Club: Arthur Conan Doyle<br>20 August, Toppings Booksellers, Edinburgh: free, ticketed</p><p>Harriett Gilbert is joined by international bestselling crime writer Val McDermid & leading Holmes expert Dr Mark Jones – Commissioning Editor of The Sherlock Holmes Journal and Co-Host of The Doings of Doyle podcast – to discuss Conan Doyle’s masterpiece and its powerful influence on crime and detective fiction.</p><p><a href="https://www.toppingbooks.co.uk/events/edinburgh/world-book-club-arthur-conan-doyle/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.toppingbooks.co.uk/events/edinburgh/world-book-club-arthur-conan-doyle/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.toppingbooks.co.uk/events/</span><span class="invisible">edinburgh/world-book-club-arthur-conan-doyle/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/sherlockholmes/" rel="tag">#SherlockHolmes</a> <a href="/tags/arthurconandoyle/" rel="tag">#ArthurConanDoyle</a></p>

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25d

<p>One of the many great musical set pieces in the Oscar-winning movie SINNERS is “Will Ye Go, Lassie, Go” (aka “Wild Mountain Thyme”) – adapted in the 1940s by Francis McPeake from “The Braes o Balquhidder”, an original song by Robert Tannahill (1774–1810), Paisley’s “weaver poet”</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xh5bhmU8X8" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xh5bhmU8X8"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xh5bh</span><span class="invisible">mU8X8</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/music/" rel="tag">#music</a> <a href="/tags/folksong/" rel="tag">#folksong</a> <a href="/tags/sinners/" rel="tag">#Sinners</a> <a href="/tags/oscars/" rel="tag">#Oscars</a></p>

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247d

<p>Francis Bacon’s Essays explore the darker side of human nature. 400 years on, they still instruct and unnerve</p><p>By Matthew Sharpe</p><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/francis-bacons-essays-explore-the-darker-side-of-human-nature-400-years-on-they-still-instruct-and-unnerve-259051" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="theconversation.com/francis-bacons-essays-explore-the-darker-side-of-human-nature-400-years-on-they-still-instruct-and-unnerve-259051"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">theconversation.com/francis-ba</span><span class="invisible">cons-essays-explore-the-darker-side-of-human-nature-400-years-on-they-still-instruct-and-unnerve-259051</span></a></p><p>Francis Bacon at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/296" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/296"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/296</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#Books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#Literature</a></p>

Paul van Somer´s portrait of Francis Bacon.

Formerly attributed to Frans Pourbus the Younger

In the painting, Francis Bacon is shown standing in three-quarter view, facing the viewer with a calm, composed expression.

Bacon wears an elaborate black robe or gown. The garment is richly embroidered or trimmed with gold, and he wears a prominent white ruff collar, characteristic of the Jacobean era. A wide-brimmed black hat often completes his outfit.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francis_Bacon#/media/File:Somer_Francis_Bacon.jpg

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247d

<p>The Confessions of Samuel Pepys by Guy de la Bédoyère review – journal of a predator</p><p>Newly decoded extracts expose the celebrated 17th-century diarist and naval administrator as a rapacious abuser</p><p>By Kathryn Hughes</p><p><a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2025/aug/04/the-confessions-of-samuel-pepys-by-guy-de-la-bedoyere-review-sex-and-the-city" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.theguardian.com/books/2025/aug/04/the-confessions-of-samuel-pepys-by-guy-de-la-bedoyere-review-sex-and-the-city"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.theguardian.com/books/2025</span><span class="invisible">/aug/04/the-confessions-of-samuel-pepys-by-guy-de-la-bedoyere-review-sex-and-the-city</span></a></p><p>Samuel Pepys at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1181" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/1181"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/1181</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#Books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Samuel Pepys in the painting by John Hayls from 1666.

In the portrait, Samuel Pepys is shown in three-quarter length. He is seated at an angle, turning slightly toward the viewer, with a direct and thoughtful gaze.

Pepys wears a silk or satin robe, which falls in rich folds. Beneath it, a white shirt or cravat adds contrast and a touch of elegance. His dark, shoulder-length hair — whether natural or a wig — frames his face and gives the portrait a fashionable air typical of the Restoration era.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_Pepys#/media/File:Samuel_Pepys.jpg

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246d

<p><a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a>, 7 Aug, 1879, Robert Louis Stevenson boarded the SS Devonia to make the ten-day passage from Greenock to New York to pursue his thwarted relationship with Fanny Osbourne. In THE AMATEUR EMIGRANT he gives a vivid, sharp, & engaging account of his (impoverished) travels to & in America – read the first 5 chapters free 👇</p><p>1/2</p><p><a href="https://asls.org.uk/publications/books/free-publications/the_amateur_emigrant/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="asls.org.uk/publications/books/free-publications/the_amateur_emigrant/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">asls.org.uk/publications/books</span><span class="invisible">/free-publications/the_amateur_emigrant/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/19thcentury/" rel="tag">#19thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/victorian/" rel="tag">#Victorian</a> <a href="/tags/travelwriting/" rel="tag">#travelwriting</a> <a href="/tags/robertlouisstevenson/" rel="tag">#RobertLouisStevenson</a> <a href="/tags/emigration/" rel="tag">#emigration</a></p>

Alt text

Book cover

Robert Louis Stevenson
The Amateur Emigrant
From the Clyde to Sandy Hook
Chapters I to V

On a blue-grey background, fading from dark to light from bottom to top, horizontal lines of blue-green spirals representing waves cover the bottom half of the page. The top line of spirals are coloured white.

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246d

<p>All Back to Mine with Val McDermid<br>A Kick Up The Arts podcast</p><p>Recorded live in the Portobello Bookshop, Nicola Meighan talks to folk singer, football fan, & Fun Loving Crime Writer Val McDermid about life, love, reading, & writing</p><p><a href="https://www.akickupthearts.org/blog-3-1/all-back-to-mine-with-val-mcdermid" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.akickupthearts.org/blog-3-1/all-back-to-mine-with-val-mcdermid"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.akickupthearts.org/blog-3-</span><span class="invisible">1/all-back-to-mine-with-val-mcdermid</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/podcast/" rel="tag">#podcast</a> <a href="/tags/valmcdermid/" rel="tag">#ValMcDermid</a> <a href="/tags/crimefiction/" rel="tag">#crimefiction</a></p>

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246d

<p>It gets late early out here<br>in the lacklustre places,<br>wind in the trees and the foodstalls’<br>ricepaper lamplight, fading and blurred with rain…</p><p>—John Burnside, “Travelling South, Scotland, August 2012”<br>published in BLACK MIDDENS: New Writing Scotland 31 (ASL, 2013)</p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/johnburnside/" rel="tag">#JohnBurnside</a></p>

John Burnside
Travelling South, Scotland, August 2012

“Necessity is not the mother of invention; play is”
—Ian D. Suttie

It gets late early out here
in the lacklustre places,
wind in the trees & the foodstalls’
ricepaper lamplight, fading & blurred with rain,
the wire fence studded with fleece
& indelible traces
of polythene wrapping; marrowfat clogging the drains
on the road that runs out to the coast
then disappears.
A last bleed of gold in the west, like a Shan Shui painting,
then darkness.

The animals are gone
that hunted here:
wolves coming down from the hills, that
immaculate hunger,
rumours of bear & cat, quick
martens & raptors.
The rain is darker now,
though not so black,
oil-iridescent, streaked with the smell of lard
– it gets late early out here; though late, out here,
has a different meaning:

stars in the road
& the absence of something more
than birchwoods or song,
pallet fires, tyre-tracks,
grubbed fields clouded with grease
& palm oil, hints
of molasses and lanolin, tarpaper,
iron filings.
A narrow band of weather on the road,
then houses; though we scarcely think of them
as that.

I remember a meadow at dusk
in another rain
(and this is nostalgia now); I remember
I stood in a wind like gossamer and watched
three roe fawns and a doe
come quietly, one by one, through the silvering grasses,
wary, but curious, giving me just enough space
to feel safe,
their watchfulness reminding me of something
lost, a creaturely
awareness I could only glimpse

in passing.
That meadow is gone, and dusk
isn’t dusk any more
– or not out here –
just miles of tract and lay-by on the way
to junkyards and dead allotments,
guard dogs on tether,
biomass, factory outlets,
the half-light of ersatz dairies petering out
on rotting fields
of rape and mustardseed.

We’ve been going at this for years:
a steady delete
of anything that tells us what we are,
a long
distaste for the blood warmth and bloom
of the creaturely: local
fauna and words for colour, all the shapes
of ritual and lust
surrendered where they fell, beneath a fog
of smut and grime and counting-house
as church, the old gods

buried undead beneath the rural sprawl
that bears their names, or wandering the hills
of Lammermuir and Whitelee, waiting out
the rule of Mammon, till the land returns
– with or without us –
chainlink going down
to bindweed, drunken
thistles in a sway
of wind and goldfinch on the dead estates, fat
clusters of moss
and gentian, broken

tarmac with new shoots
of coltsfoot breaking through
like velvet, till the darkness of the leaf
unfurls into a light we could have known
but failed to see
by choosing not to find
the kingdom-at-hand:
this order;
this dialectic;
this mother of invention,
ceaseless play.

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25d

<p>Alasdair Maclean (1926–1994) was born 100 years ago <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a>, 16 March. Maclean left school at 14 to work in the shipyards, before travelling the world in the Merchant Marine & as a National Service infantryman. His 2 poetry collections, published in the 1970s, were critically acclaimed, and his one full-length prose work, the poetic memoir/journal NIGHT FALLS ON ARDNAMURCHAN, is a modern classic.</p><p>1/4</p><p><a href="https://www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poet/alasdair-maclean/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.uk/poet/alasdair-maclean/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.scottishpoetrylibrary.org.</span><span class="invisible">uk/poet/alasdair-maclean/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/argyll/" rel="tag">#Argyll</a></p>

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246d

<p>Listen to ‘Moby Dick’ Read by Benedict Cumberbatch, Tilda Swinton, Sir David Attenborough, and More for Free</p><p>By Ava Linker </p><p><a href="https://mymodernmet.com/moby-dick-big-read-free-audiobook/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="mymodernmet.com/moby-dick-big-read-free-audiobook/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">mymodernmet.com/moby-dick-big-</span><span class="invisible">read-free-audiobook/</span></a>?</p><p>Moby Dick at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/search/?query=moby+dick" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/search/?query=moby+dick"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/searc</span><span class="invisible">h/?query=moby+dick</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

The cover of the first American edition of Moby-Dick, published in November 1851.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moby-Dick#/media/File:Moby-Dick_FE_title_page.jpg

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246d

<p>The great unknown romance of writer E.F. Benson’s life – Fred and George, a love story hidden in letters</p><p>The pair were seen as friends but their letters reveal a more intimate life together.</p><p>By Sasha Garwood</p><p><a href="https://theconversation.com/the-great-unknown-romance-of-writer-e-f-bensons-life-fred-and-george-a-love-story-hidden-in-letters-262745?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20August%207%202025%20-%203479135425&utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20August%207%202025%20-%203479135425+CID_f07cd193b8169389ee5efa206f9417bb&utm_source=campaign_monitor_uk&utm_term=The%20great%20unknown%20romance%20of%20writer%20EF%20Bensons%20life%20%20Fred%20and%20George%20a%20love%20story%20hidden%20in%20letters" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="theconversation.com/the-great-unknown-romance-of-writer-e-f-bensons-life-fred-and-george-a-love-story-hidden-in-letters-262745?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20August%207%202025%20-%203479135425&utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20August%207%202025%20-%203479135425+CID_f07cd193b8169389ee5efa206f9417bb&utm_source=campaign_monitor_uk&utm_term=The%20great%20unknown%20romance%20of%20writer%20EF%20Bensons%20life%20%20Fred%20and%20George%20a%20love%20story%20hidden%20in%20letters"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">theconversation.com/the-great-</span><span class="invisible">unknown-romance-of-writer-e-f-bensons-life-fred-and-george-a-love-story-hidden-in-letters-262745?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20August%207%202025%20-%203479135425&utm_content=Latest%20from%20The%20Conversation%20for%20August%207%202025%20-%203479135425+CID_f07cd193b8169389ee5efa206f9417bb&utm_source=campaign_monitor_uk&utm_term=The%20great%20unknown%20romance%20of%20writer%20EF%20Bensons%20life%20%20Fred%20and%20George%20a%20love%20story%20hidden%20in%20letters</span></a></p><p>E.F. Benson at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/812" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/author/812"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/autho</span><span class="invisible">r/812</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

Portrait of E. F. Benson.

from Harper's Weekly - The New York Public Library

Benson is shown in head-and-shoulders, facing slightly to one side but with his gaze directed toward the viewer.

He wears a dark suit with a high, stiff collar and neatly tied tie. His hair is neatly parted and groomed, and his face is clean-shaven, allowing his sharp features — a high forehead, straight nose, and firm-set mouth.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E._F._Benson#/media/File:E._F._Benson.jpg

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245d

<p>“[I]f you want to concentrate deeply on some problem, and especially some piece of writing or paper-work, you should acquire a cat.”</p><p>—Nancy Hawkins, the majestic narrator of Muriel Spark’s A FAR CRY FROM KENSINGTON, on why a writer should own a cat</p><p>Today, 8 August, is International Cat Day (don’t tell them) 🐈‍⬛</p><p>1/3</p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/writing/" rel="tag">#writing</a> <a href="/tags/cats/" rel="tag">#cats</a> <a href="/tags/internationalcatday/" rel="tag">#InternationalCatDay</a> <a href="/tags/murielspark/" rel="tag">#MurielSpark</a></p>

So I passed him some very good advice, that if you want to concentrate deeply on some problem, and especially some piece of writing or paper-work, you should acquire a cat. Alone with the cat in the room where you work, I explained, the cat will invariably get up on your desk and settle placidly under the desk-lamp. The light from a lamp, I explained, gives a cat great satisfaction. The cat will settle down and be serene, with a serenity that passes all understanding. And the tranquillity of the cat will gradually come to affect you, sitting there at your desk, so that all the excitable qualities that impede your concentration compose themselves and give your mind back the self-command it has lost. You need not watch the cat all the time. Its presence alone is enough. The effect of a cat on your concentration is remarkable, very mysterious.

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244d

<p>The Real Science Experiments That Inspired Frankenstein</p><p>All of the experiments to revive dead people led Shelly to the idea of a story of creating life.</p><p><a href="https://www.openculture.com/2025/07/the-real-science-experiments-that-inspired-frankenstein.html" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.openculture.com/2025/07/the-real-science-experiments-that-inspired-frankenstein.html"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.openculture.com/2025/07/th</span><span class="invisible">e-real-science-experiments-that-inspired-frankenstein.html</span></a></p><p>"Frankenstein; Or, The Modern Prometheus" at PG:</p><p><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/84" rel="nofollow"><span class="invisible">https://</span>www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/84</a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a></p>

"Promotional photo of Boris Karloff from The Bride of Frankenstein as Frankenstein's monster." - picryl.com

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244d

<p>Call for papers:<br>Irish & Scottish Women Writers for Children, c. 1750–1940<br>12 Dec, University of Edinburgh – free</p><p>Although significantly overlooked, Irish & Scottish women wrote children’s literature across various genres & forms. Papers on the symposium themes are invited by 31 August.</p><p>@litstudies </p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/irish/" rel="tag">#Irish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/womenwriters/" rel="tag">#womenwriters</a> <a href="/tags/childrensliterature/" rel="tag">#ChildrensLiterature</a> <a href="/tags/18thcentury/" rel="tag">#18thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/19thcentury/" rel="tag">#19thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/20thcentury/" rel="tag">#20thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/callforpapers/" rel="tag">#CallforPapers</a></p>

Paper presentations of 20 minutes in length are welcomed and may be on the following writers:

Catherine Sinclair, Elizabeth Hamilton, Isabella Fyvie Mayo, Ethel Forster Heddle, Annie S. Swan, Dorita Fairlie Bruce, Robina Hardy, Jessie Saxby, the Findlater sisters, the Mulholland sisters, Lady Gregory, Maria Edgeworth, Mary Leadbeater, Violet Finney, Katharine Tynan, Sophia Rosamond Praeger.

Or, the focus of the paper might be tied to one of the following themes:

Irish/Scottish women writers or editors of children’s periodicals.
Irish/Scottish women writers or illustrators of fairy tales or folktales.
Writing partnerships and the social networks of women writers.
The local, national and international in Irish/Scottish children’s literature.
Children’s literature written in Scots, Irish, or Scottish Gaelic.
Religion and politics in Irish/Scottish children’s literature.
Collections research and archival recovery of children’s literature.

Selected papers from this symposium will be invited to be expanded and collected in an edited volume of essays.

Please email a 200-word abstract and a 50-word bio to Lois Burke at v1lburk3@ed.ac.uk by 31st August.

The symposium will be free to attend, and catering will be provided.

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244d

<p>Anima Celtica: Ella Carmichael as scholar, activist & muse in the Scottish Celtic Revival</p><p>Ella Carmichael (1870–1928) was born <a href="/tags/otd/" rel="tag">#OTD</a>, 9 Aug. Abigail Burnyeat talks about Ella Carmichael & her role in the Scottish Celtic revival. The first female student of Celtic at Edinburgh University, Ella Carmichael was also founder of the Celtic Union & the journal The Celtic Review</p><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xoVzPDYfsoQ" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.youtube.com/watch?v=xoVzPDYfsoQ"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.youtube.com/watch?v=xoVzPD</span><span class="invisible">YfsoQ</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/gaelic/" rel="tag">#Gaelic</a> <a href="/tags/gaidhlig/" rel="tag">#Gaidhlig</a> <a href="/tags/folklore/" rel="tag">#folklore</a> <a href="/tags/celticstudies/" rel="tag">#CelticStudies</a> <a href="/tags/celticrevival/" rel="tag">#CelticRevival</a></p>

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48d

<p>Nam sheasamh thall aig geat a’ phreiridh,<br>feur glan fom bhotannan,<br>lamhan fuar nam phocaidean,<br>faileadh an dup<br>gu fann<br>gu neo-chinnteach<br>a’ nochdadh mu mo chuinnlean…</p><p>—Anne Frater, “Aig an Fhaing”</p><p>Today, 21 February, is UNESCO International Mother Language Day</p><p><a href="https://www.unesco.org/en/days/mother-language" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.unesco.org/en/days/mother-language"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.unesco.org/en/days/mother-</span><span class="invisible">language</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/gaidhlig/" rel="tag">#Gaidhlig</a> <a href="/tags/gaelic/" rel="tag">#Gaelic</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/language/" rel="tag">#language</a> <a href="/tags/minoritylanguage/" rel="tag">#minoritylanguage</a> <a href="/tags/motherlanguageday/" rel="tag">#MotherLanguageDay</a> <a href="/tags/unesco/" rel="tag">#UNESCO</a></p>

Aig an Fhaing
Anne Frater

Nam sheasamh thall aig geat a’ phreiridh,
feur glan fom bhotannan,
lamhan fuar nam phocaidean,
faileadh an dup
gu fann
gu neo-chinnteach
a’ nochdadh mu mo chuinnlean
’s mi a’ coimhead cach cruinn
lachanaich le cheile
timcheall air an fhaing:
a’ bruthadh nan caorach,
guthan ard ag eigheachd
’s a’ gearain, ’s a’ gaireachdainn
’s gach druim thugams’
gam ghlasadh a-mach.
Mi seasamh, ’s a’ coimhead
’s a’ feitheamh airson facal
mo ghluasad gu feum.
Mi siubhal gu slaodach
a’ cruinneachadh nan uan
’s gan ruagadh romham
a-steach gu cach;
uain a’ ruith
gu meulaich math’r.
Boinneagan uisge
mar mhillean mialan
a’ leum as an dup,
agus crathadh cinn nan adharcan
fliuch, fuar, feagalach
a’ deanamh as.
Ceum no dha eile
’s chi mi aodannan nan gair’.
Mo lamhan fhin a’ breith air cloimh,
faileadh an dup air mo chorragan,
peant a’ camharradh mo chasan,
poll dubh bog air mo bhotannan
’s mo chanan fhin nam bheul.

At the Fank
Anne Frater

Standing over by the prairie gate
with clean grass under my wellies,
cold hands in my pockets,
the smell of the sheep dip
faintly
hesitantly
coming to my nostrils
as I watch the others gathered
around the fank
and laughing with each other:
pushing the sheep,
loud voices shouting
and moaning, and laughing
and all with their backs to me
shutting me out.
I stand and watch
and wait for a word
to move me to usefulness.
Moving slowly
gathering the lambs
and driving them before me
in towards the others;
lambs running
to a mother’s bleat.
Drops of water
jump from the sheep dip
like millions of fleas
and the horns’ head-shaking,
wet, cold, fearful
running off.
Another step or two
and I can see the laughing faces.
My own hands holding wool,
the smell of sheep dip on my fingers.
Paint marking my legs,
soft black mud on my wellies
and my own language on my tongue.

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48d

<p>How Medieval Women Expressed Their ‘Forbidden’ Emotions</p><p>Upper-class women used letters and embroidery to reflect on their inner lives</p><p>by Pragya Agarwal (from the archives)</p><p><a href="https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-medieval-women-expressed-their-forbidden-emotions-180983953/?utm_source=smithsoniandaily&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=editorial&lctg=93133550" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.smithsonianmag.com/history/how-medieval-women-expressed-their-forbidden-emotions-180983953/?utm_source=smithsoniandaily&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=editorial&lctg=93133550"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.smithsonianmag.com/history</span><span class="invisible">/how-medieval-women-expressed-their-forbidden-emotions-180983953/?utm_source=smithsoniandaily&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=editorial&lctg=93133550</span></a></p><p>Medieval women at PG:<br><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/search/?query=medieval+women" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/search/?query=medieval+women"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/searc</span><span class="invisible">h/?query=medieval+women</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/books/" rel="tag">#books</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/womeninart/" rel="tag">#womeninart</a></p>

Marie de France, from an illuminated manuscript now in the Bibliothèque nationale de France: BnF, Arsenal Library, Ms. 3142 fol. 256.

A woman is depicted standing and leaning slightly forward over an open book resting on an elegant white lectern with a decorative pedestal base. She wears a flowing pale cream or white robe that pools softly at her feet, with blue sleeves visible beneath, and a white veil or wimple covering her hair. Her face small, calm features with a downward gaze directed at the page. One hand reaches toward the open book as if reading or writing. The lectern stands on a terracotta-red bench or platform. Behind her, a trefoil arch frames the scene.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marie_de_France#/media/File:Marie_de_France_1.tif

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243d

<p>My grandfather didn’t know he was a Taoist.<br>He had fished the river Awe for sixty years.<br>Life is sensed as a flowing movement,<br>a power like wind or water. When he cast,<br>it was the bank that moved, not the river…</p><p>—Lorn Macintyre, “Satori”<br>published in The Bridport Prize Anthology 2013 (Redcliffe Press, 2013)</p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/fishing/" rel="tag">#fishing</a> <a href="/tags/naturepoetry/" rel="tag">#naturepoetry</a> <a href="/tags/naturewriting/" rel="tag">#naturewriting</a> <a href="/tags/zen/" rel="tag">#Zen</a></p>

Satori
Lorn Macintyre

My grandfather didn’t know he was a Taoist.
He had fished the river Awe for sixty years.
Life is sensed as a flowing movement,
a power like wind or water. When he cast,
it was the bank that moved, not the river.
The osprey with the salmon in its talons
needed no metaphor to describe its beauty.
He saw the suchness of the landscape,
the great whole, perfect, sky, mountain,
as in a painting by the Zen K’un-t’an.
There is no Gaelic for the term satori,
the solution lying beyond the intellect,
that flash of delighted intuition, sensing
that a salmon is lying in the current,
while not seeing a ripple with the eye.
If I had told him: ‘you read the river
like a book, noting between the lines
what other fishermen fail to spy,’
he would have clouted me on the head,
the way Zen Masters took the big stick
to pupils who insisted on comparison.
The river needs no language, no homage.
It goes its own way, like the osprey
which will never run out of sky.

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48d

<p>At times, in those last few months,<br>he would think of a word<br>and he had to remember the tree, or the species of frog,</p><p>the sound denoted…</p><p>—John Burnside, “The Last Man to Speak Ubykh“<br>published in the London Review of Books, August 2002 </p><p><a href="https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v24/n16/john-burnside/the-last-man-to-speak-ubykh" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v24/n16/john-burnside/the-last-man-to-speak-ubykh"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v24/n1</span><span class="invisible">6/john-burnside/the-last-man-to-speak-ubykh</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/motherlanguageday/" rel="tag">#MotherLanguageDay</a> <a href="/tags/unesco/" rel="tag">#UNESCO</a> <a href="/tags/linguistics/" rel="tag">#linguistics</a></p>

The Last Man to Speak Ubykh
John Burnside

The linguist Ole Stig Andersen was keen to seek out the remaining traces of a West Caucasian language called Ubykh. Having heard that there was one remaining speaker he set out to find the man and arrived in his village on 8 October 1992. The man had died a few hours earlier.

At times, in those last few months,
he would think of a word
and he had to remember the tree, or the species of frog,

the sound denoted:
the tree itself, or the frog, or the state of mind
and not the equivalent word in another language,

the speech that had taken his sons
and the mountain light;
the graves he swept and raked; the wedding songs.

While years of silence gathered in the heat,
he stood in his yard and whispered the name of a bird
in his mother tongue,

while memories of snow and market days,
his father’s hands, the smell of tamarind,
inklings of milk and blood on a sunlit floor

receded in the names no longer used:
the blue of childhood folded like a sheet
and tucked away.

Nothing he said was remembered; nothing he did
was fact or legend
in the village square,

yet later they would memorise the word
he spoke that morning, just before he died:
the word for death, perhaps, or meadow grass,

or swimming to the surface of his mind,
that other word they used, when he was young,
for all they knew that nobody remembered.

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243d

<p>Well Versed Author Events: Niall Campbell<br>20 August, online, free</p><p>Niall Campbell reads some of his poetry, discusses his work, & answers questions as part of the Well Versed series in partnership with StAnza International Poetry Festival</p><p><a href="https://www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/well-versed-author-events-niall-campbell-tickets-1561423853779" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/well-versed-author-events-niall-campbell-tickets-1561423853779"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">www.eventbrite.co.uk/e/well-ve</span><span class="invisible">rsed-author-events-niall-campbell-tickets-1561423853779</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a></p>

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52d

<p>Those lumbering horses in the steady plough,<br>On the bare field – I wonder, why, just now,<br>They seemed terrible, so wild and strange,<br>Like magic power on the stony grange…</p><p>—Edwin Muir (1887–1959), “Horses” 🐴<br>published in THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF SCOTTISH VERSE, <span class="h-card"><a href="https://bookish.community/@canongatebooks" class="u-url mention" rel="nofollow noopener noreferrer" target="_blank">@<span>canongatebooks</span></a></span> 2021</p><p><a href="https://canongate.co.uk/books/3267-the-golden-treasury-of-scottish-verse/" rel="nofollow" class="ellipsis" title="canongate.co.uk/books/3267-the-golden-treasury-of-scottish-verse/"><span class="invisible">https://</span><span class="ellipsis">canongate.co.uk/books/3267-the</span><span class="invisible">-golden-treasury-of-scottish-verse/</span></a></p><p><a href="/tags/scottish/" rel="tag">#Scottish</a> <a href="/tags/literature/" rel="tag">#literature</a> <a href="/tags/20thcentury/" rel="tag">#20thcentury</a> <a href="/tags/edwinmuir/" rel="tag">#EdwinMuir</a> <a href="/tags/yearofthehorse/" rel="tag">#YearoftheHorse</a> <a href="/tags/lunarnewyear/" rel="tag">#LunarNewYear</a> <a href="/tags/chinesenewyear/" rel="tag">#ChineseNewYear</a> <a href="/tags/poem/" rel="tag">#poem</a> <a href="/tags/poetry/" rel="tag">#poetry</a> <a href="/tags/horse/" rel="tag">#horse</a> <a href="/tags/horses/" rel="tag">#horses</a> <a href="/tags/orkney/" rel="tag">#Orkney</a></p>

Edwin Muir
Horses

Those lumbering horses in the steady plough,
On the bare field – I wonder, why, just now,
They seemed terrible, so wild and strange,
Like magic power on the stony grange.

Perhaps some childish hour has come again,
When I watched fearful, through the blackening rain,
Their hooves like pistons in an ancient mill
Move up and down, yet seem as standing still.

Their conquering hooves which trod the stubble down
Were ritual that turned the field to brown,
And their great hulks were seraphims of,
Or mute ecstatic monsters on the mould.

And oh the rapture, when, one furrow done,
They marched broad-breasted to the sinking sun!
The light flowed off their bossy sides in flakes;
The furrows rolled behind like struggling snakes.

But when at dusk with steaming nostrils home
They came, they seemed gigantic in the gloam,
And warm and glowing with mysterious fire
That lit their smouldering bodies in the mire.

Their eyes as brilliant and as wide as night
Gleamed with a cruel apocalyptic light,
Their manes the leaping ire of the wind
Lifted with rage invisible and blind.

Ah, now it fades! It fades! And I must pine
Again for the dread country crystalline,
Where the blank field and the still-standing tree
Were bright and fearful presences to me.

Edited 48d ago

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