4.4 • 785 Ratings
🗓️ 7 September 2024
⏱️ 32 minutes
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| 0:00.0 | The Spectator magazine is the greatest magazine of English language. Subscribe today for just £12, |
| 0:05.0 | and receive a 12-week subscription in print and online to see for yourselves. Also, against my advice is editor, |
| 0:12.3 | we're giving away a free £20, John Lewis or Waitrose Voucher. Given that you're spending 12 quid, |
| 0:17.4 | you can do the maths. Go to spectator.com.uk forward slashours slash voucher, but don't hurry because this offer probably loses us money. |
| 0:25.1 | Hello and welcome to Spectator Out Loud. Each week we choose some of our favourite pieces |
| 0:37.3 | from the magazine |
| 0:37.9 | and ask their writers to read them aloud. I'm Patrick Gibbons and on this week's podcast. |
| 0:43.3 | Following the death of a sibling, Ian Thompson reflects on his childhood home. Andrew Watts |
| 0:48.2 | argues that MPs fill a unique position, accountable for everything yet responsible for little. |
| 0:55.6 | As his new book, The Haunted Wood, A History of Childhood Reading, is published this week. Sam Leith reveals the surprising |
| 1:00.8 | problem of poetical copyright. Reviewing Will Noble's book Croydonopolis, a journey to the |
| 1:06.2 | greatest city that never was, Helen Barrett explores the reputation of a place with unfulfilled potential, |
| 1:12.0 | and, from Provence, Catriona Olding ponders the idea of moving on from loss to love. |
| 1:17.9 | Up first, Ian Thompson. |
| 1:20.6 | My sister died last summer, before her time, at 58. |
| 1:25.9 | Her death has left me shaken with sorrow and remorse we did not always get on. |
| 1:32.1 | The other day I accompanied her daughters and husband to scatter her ashes on the Thames at Greenwich |
| 1:37.9 | in South London where she and I had grown up. The great muddy waterway would take Claire's ashes out to sea eventually. |
| 1:48.7 | People like Liz Trust live in Greenwich now, but in my time the inhabitants were Labour-voting bohemian types. |
| 1:58.1 | Daniel Day Lewis, a brashish schoolboy, lived down the road from us on Crum's Hill with |
| 2:04.2 | his poet father Cecil. At Greenwich Theatre opposite, Max Wall performed his anarcho-comic piano sketches |
| 2:12.6 | on Friday nights. Claire Tomlin was a near neighbour, as was later Jonathan Sumpchin. In those days, |
... |
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