Ruby Hamilton works at the LRB.
She first saw him walking ‘rather contemptuously’ across the Pont Marie. Frock coat, tall hat, ‘gone-bad, luminous look’. Risen from the pages of Enid Starkie’s Life, here was her hero of heroes, Charles Baudelaire, and he was staring right at her: ‘He wanted to impress himself on me – young clay takes the print better. And the message was totally...
If Celia Dale is a nasty writer, then her nastiness, like Roald Dahl’s, is partly cosmetic: no boil goes unenlarged, no paunch unemphasised. Her novels (thirteen in total, often described as works of domestic crime fiction or ‘suburban horror’) display a fondness for all creatures sallow and bowlegged: a menagerie of bedraggled birds, wet fish and disgusting old walruses....
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