Is it too late to save the United Kingdom?
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‘Assisi – best spiritual vibrations anywhere I’ve been, along with India,’ enthused the mustached British man next to me on the bus to Florence. Pleased to find a fellow anglophone, he chatted away happily, telling me how he’d retired, sold his house in London and moved to Assisi. He hadn’t yet learnt Italian but could manage enough Sanskrit to read the Upanishads. A spiritual dilettante. Wonderful. It was 7:30 a.m., I’d missed coffee, breakfast and a train, and my feet, after walking for eight days and 115 miles to commemorate the 800th anniversary of the death of St. Francis, hurt. Yet when my companion gave his verdict on how Francis had transformed his world, my cranky heart warmed to him.
This week's magazine
Labour lacks the energy for growth
John Healey stood in front of two giant robotic arms this week and promised to ‘make Great Britain Growth Britain again’. The Chancellor also promised, borrowing a catchphrase from his neighbour in No. 10, to deliver ‘good growth in every postcode’. In the North Sea, 150 miles east off the coast of Aberdeen, lies the first big test of this promise. The 6,000-ton Jackdaw extraction platform is ready to start pumping gas from a field three miles below the surface. Twenty years after the Jackdaw field was first successfully prospected, it will, at the stroke of a ministerial pen, finally be allowed to operate.
John Healey stood in front of two giant robotic arms this week and promised to ‘make Great Britain Growth Britain again’. The Chancellor also promised, borrowing a catchphrase from his neighbour in No. 10, to deliver ‘good growth in every postcode’. In the North Sea, 150 miles east off the coast of Aberdeen, lies the first big test of this promise. The 6,000-ton Jackdaw extraction platform is ready to start pumping gas from a field three miles below the surface. Twenty years after the Jackdaw field was first successfully prospected, it will, at the stroke of a ministerial pen, finally be allowed to operate.
The good, the bad and the ugly in books, exhibitions, cinema, TV, dance, music, podcasts and theatre.
The National Theatre’s latest show, written in 2003, has bundles of energy and ideas. A thrusting young reporter, Yvonne, investigates the shooting of a yuppie in a rundown part of a teeming US metropolis. She learns that the murder was committed by a cross-dressing gang of all-female muggers, known as AOBs, whose leader, Latisha, is a teenage genius. Her parents were alcoholic derelicts and yet she taught herself several European languages while growing up in poverty. Yvonne, who also happens to be multilingual, banters with her in Italian and German. But will Latisha confess and give the newspaper an exclusive?