To rescue Kahlo from the clutches of the corporate art market, we need to acknowledge the overt and covert political dimensions of the work, demands GAVIN O’TOOLE
JAMES JOYCE’S Ulysses was first published 100 years ago. For a century, it has been seen as an intimidating read, but I’d like to challenge that. It is surprisingly accessible.
Set in Dublin on a single day (June 16 1904), Ulysses commemorated Joyce’s first date with his life partner, Nora Barnacle. Nora herself never cared to read it. “Jim,” she said, “should have stuck to the singing.”
It isn’t hard to see why she was put off. The first three chapters focus on Stephen Dedalus, Joyce’s sardonic portrait of his younger self as a philosophising drifter prone to giving lectures on Hamlet over pints.
JULIA TOPPIN recommends Patti Smith’s eloquent memoir that wrestles with the beauty and sorrow of a lifetime
JULIA THOMAS unpicks the mental processes that explain why book-to-film adaptations so often disappoint
Gin Lane by William Hogarth is a critique of 18th-century London’s growing funeral trade, posits DAN O’BRIEN
BLANE SAVAGE recommends the display of nine previously unseen works by the Glaswegian artist, novelist and playwright


