The difference between the old and the new fiction is astonishing.

In his latest of many books, the expatriate Kenyan writer Ngugi wa Thiong’o tells of an episode from the colonial era in which he grew up.

A PAINTING IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY Flowers and weeds together spill, Careless and drizzly, down the hill In a long back garden that’s anywhere Outside London. I am living there Beside the window, no longer ...

Are American minds, however impressed by Russian artistry, unable to penetrate Russian reasoning and suffering?

Just a few things are widely known about Augustine of Hippo (354–430 a.d.), whose designations are as lofty and sweeping as saint, doctor (= “teacher”) of the Church, and the ...

ENTITLED WILDLIFE I’ve fought my way to easier days – So others should who find life hard. So why are there, beneath my gaze, So many single mothers in my yard? They even carp when ...

THE GARDEN Nothing to do with me, All that it grows: Whatever I might see – A vole, a rose. Who gives, who takes away? Look how it grieves, How what shoots up today Falls among thieves, While in ...