Podcasts about George Eliot

A Truce That is Not Peace by Miriam Toews is a heartfelt and hopeful memoir about life and art. Miriam joins us to talk about why she writes, silence, language, living in translation and more with host Miwa Messer. This episode of Poured Over was hosted by Miwa Messer and mixed by Harry Liang.                     New episodes land Tuesdays and Thursdays (with occasional Saturdays) here and on your favorite podcast app. Featured Books (Episode): A Truce That is Not Peace by Miriam Toews Fight Night by Miriam Toews Sandwich by Catherine Newman Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen Middlemarch by George Eliot

In this episode, Hunter and Autumn consider what Proverbs teaches us about how to work wisely—commending diligence, urging careful planning, and calling us to seek wise counsel. While Proverbs and various New Testament passages emphasize the immediate reward of diligent, thoughtful work, Jesus also emphasizes the eternal nature of our work and the necessity of working wisely in and for his kingdom.Resources mentioned in this episode:Silas Marner by George EliotWisdom for Today's Issues: A Topical Arrangement of the Proverbs by Stephen Voorwinde

Tonight's reading comes from Middlemarch. Written by George Eliot (the pen name of Mary Ann Evans) and first published in 1871, this story is part of a series that explores live in a provincial English town. My name is Teddy and I aim to help people everywhere get a good night's rest. Sleep is so important and my mission is to help you get the rest you need. The podcast is designed to play in the background while you slowly fall asleep.For those new to the podcast, it started from my own struggles with sleep. I wanted to create a resource for others facing similar challenges, and I'm so grateful for the amazing community we've built together.

Fort Zumwalt West (MO) Percussion Director and Chapter President for the Missouri Percussive Arts Society Neil Flannigan stops by to talk about his teaching position (03:25), the MOPAS Presidency (21:40), growing up in STL, his percussion and guitar background, the band Rush, Southwind Drum and Bugle Corps, and working at Dierberg's Grocery Store (31:00), attending St. Louis CC and the University of Missouri-St. Louis for undergrad, and meeting his eventual wife Jessie (47:30), his early teaching jobs, his decision not to follow the band director path, and landing his current position during COVID lockdown (01:00:00), and finishes with the Random Ass Questions, including discussions about setting boundaries, Indian food, Jurassic Park, puppetry, bourbon, and great visual art (01:27:00).Finishing with a Rave on the classic George Eliot novel Middlemarch (02:03:20).Neil Flannigan links:Neil Flannigan's Innovative Percussion pageNeil Flannigan's SABIAN Cymbals pagePrevious Podcast Guests mentioned:Jessie Flannigan in 2025Alex Smith in 2018Alexandros Fragiskatos in 2021Megan Arns in 2016Josh Knight in 2017Ivan Trevino in 2017Matt Henry in 2017Patricia Islas in 2021Eric Willie in 2022Other Links:MMPATNicole HackelSebastian BuhtsSt. Louis Wind SymphonyMichael Burritt“Tom Sawyer” - Rush“Smells Like Teen Spirit” - Nirvana“When Doves Cry” - Prince Southwind Drum and Bugle CorpsJim Widner“Fix You” - ColdplayJurassic Park trailerThe Martian trailerThe Martian - Andy WeirGhost Rider - Neil Peart“I Want it That Way” - Backstreet BoysWater Lilies - Claude MonetRaves:Middlemarch - George Eliot

Summer is slipping away and we are on break this week. But we have a fantastic rerun for you — our conversation with Min Jin Lee from last summer, when her book "Pachinko" was named one of the "100 Best Books of the 21st Century" by a New York Times Book Review panel. She spoke about her novel as well as the book she's read the most times — George Eliot's "Middlemarch."“I'm willing to say it's the best English language novel, period. Without question,” Lee says. “George Eliot is probably the smartest girl in the room ever as a novelist. She really was a great thinker, a great logician, a great empathizer and also a great psychologist. She was all of those things. And she was also political. She understood so many aspects of the human mind and the way we interact with each other. And then above all, I think she has a great heart.” Unlock full access to New York Times podcasts and explore everything from politics to pop culture. Subscribe today at nytimes.com/podcasts or on Apple Podcasts and Spotify.

Our classic literature correspondent Kat Weaver joins us for a look at George Eliot's masterpiece about small towns and bad marriages. We find some wizards in it.

The Mill on the Floss is George Eliot's most autobiographical novel, and the first she published after her identity as a woman was revealed. A ‘dreamscape' version of her Warwickshire childhood, the book is both a working-through and a reimagining of her life. Ruth Yeazell and Deborah Friedell join Tom to discuss the novel and its protagonist Maggie Tullliver, for whom duty – societal, familial, self-imposed – continually conflicts with her personal desires. They explore the book's submerged sexuality, its questioning of conventional gender roles, and the way Eliot's satirical impulse is counterbalanced by the complexity of her characters. Non-subscribers will only hear an extract from this episode. To listen to the full episode, and all our other Close Readings series, subscribe: Directly in Apple Podcasts: https://lrb.me/applecrna In other podcast apps: https://lrb.me/closereadingsna Further reading in the LRB: Rachel Bowlby on reading George Eliot: ⁠https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v35/n07/rachel-bowlby/waiting-for-the-dawn-to-come⁠ Dinah Birch on Eliot's journals: ⁠https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v21/n10/dinah-birch/no-wonder-it-ached⁠ Rosemary Ashton on Eliot and sex: ⁠https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v05/n03/rosemary-ashton/two-velvet-peaches⁠ Gordon Haight's speech on Eliot at Westminster Abbey: ⁠http://lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v02/n14/gordon-haight/gordon-haight-s-speech-in-westminster-abbey-on-21-june-when-a-memorial-stone-to-george-eliot-was-unveiled⁠ Next episode: ‘Our Mutual Friend' by Charles Dickens.

It is never too late to be what you might have been. –George Eliot Check out John Lee Dumas' award winning Podcast Entrepreneurs on Fire on your favorite podcast directory. For world class free courses and resources to help you on your Entrepreneurial journey visit EOFire.com

What does feel like to live helplessly in a world that is coming undone? If you're alive in 2025, you are probably very familiar with this feeling - and if you'd been alive in the age of Victorian literature, you might have felt that way too. In this episode, Jacke talks to author Nathan K. Hensley about his book Action without Hope: Victorian Literature after Climate Collapse, which studies how authors like George Eliot, Emily Brontë, H.G. Wells, Lewis Carroll, and Christina Rossetti used aesthetic strategies to deal with the anxiety and despair of ongoing climate disaster. What did they face? How did they cope? And can we learn from their examples? PLUS Jacke dives into some news from Italian museums, where people have been "losing their brains." What's going on with them? AND two Dickens experts, Stephen Browning and Simon Thomas, co-authors of The Real Charles Dickens, stop by to discuss their choice for the last book will they ever read. Will they choose something by Dickens? Note: The "My Last Book" conversation in this episode was recorded before the untimely passing of Stephen Browning. He was a wonderful guest, and we at the History of Literature Podcast are very grateful to have had the chance to speak with him. Our deepest sympathies are with his friends, family, and loved ones. May he rest in peace. Special Announcement: The History of Literature Podcast Tour is happening in May 2026! Act now to join Jacke and fellow literature fans on an eight-day journey through literary England in partnership with ⁠John Shors Travel⁠. Find out more by emailing jackewilsonauthor@gmail.com or masahiko@johnshorstravel.com, or by contacting us through our website ⁠historyofliterature.com⁠. Or visit the ⁠History of Literature Podcast Tour itinerary⁠ at ⁠John Shors Travel⁠. The music in this episode is by Gabriel Ruiz-Bernal. Learn more at ⁠gabrielruizbernal.com ⁠. Help support the show at ⁠patreon.com/literature ⁠or ⁠historyofliterature.com/donate ⁠. The History of Literature Podcast is a member of Lit Hub Radio and the Podglomerate Network. Learn more at ⁠thepodglomerate.com/historyofliterature ⁠. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to the 200th episode of Sarah's Bookshelves Live with a very special celebration with both co-hosts: Susie (@NovelVisits) and Catherine of Gilmore Guide to Books. Today, they are answering listener-submitted questions all about their reading journeys, their podcast journeys, and some about their pre-podcast blogging days! This post contains affiliate links through which I make a small commission when you make a purchase (at no cost to you!). CLICK HERE for the full episode Show Notes on the blog. Highlights Their early reading lives. The most surprising things about their reading history. Susie's secret endeavor! How much they talk about books in their day-to-day lives. What their friends outside of the book world think about what they do. Would Susie or Catherine ever want to do an author interview? How their feelings about the podcast have changed over the years. Topic Highlights Key Moments in Their Reading Lives [1:59] A few of the questions answered: Have you always been a reader, and do you have a distinct memory of when you truly fell in love with reading? [2:11]  Was there a time in your life when you were not reading very much? [6:34]  What parts of your reading tastes have changed dramatically over the course of your reading life and what parts have stayed consistent? [10:56]  Currently, what is your reading “why”? What's the primary reasoon you read? [29:35] Their Professional Reading Journeys [34:17] A few of the questions answered: Why did you start your blogs? [34:26]  Is there anything you miss from the time when you only blogged? Anything you don't miss? [40:35]  What is your relationship like off mic? [44:49]  How has social media changed your reading life? [53:04] Anything you wish you had known about podcasting before you got involved? [1:03:13]  Books Mentioned Dick and Jane Reading Collection  [2:41] Ant and Bee and the ABC  (1950) [4:31]  The Secret of the Old Clock by Carolyn Keene (1930) [4:59] Kristy's Great Idea (The Baby-Sitters Club, 1) by Ann M. Martin (1986) [5:02]  Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown (1947) [5:29]  The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer (2013) [9:47]  Double Love (Sweet Valley High, 1) by Francine Pascal (1983)  [16:09]  Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (1861)  [16:49]  Tell Me Lies by Carola Lovering (2018)  [17:42]  Normal People by Sally Rooney (2019)  [17:43]  Bitter Sweet by Hattie Williams (2025)  [17:44]  Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert (1857) [18:46]  Middlemarch by George Eliot (1872) [18:54]  Out of Africa by Isak Dinesen (1937) [19:17] 

Edward Whitley OBE is a financier, philanthropist, author and conservationist whose work has helped protect some of the planet's rarest species. He's raised over £24 million for more than 220 conservation projects in 80+ countries, encountering everything from golden-headed tamarins to monkey-eating eagles.  He's also written on subjects ranging from Gerald Durrell and Nick Leeson, to Indira Gandhi, Sir John Betjeman, and even Jane Austen vs George Eliot—all while running his own investment firm for over two decades. In this wide-ranging conversation, we explore endangered wildlife, financial scandals, 19th-century literature, and a closing note from Sir David Attenborough. Informative, surprising, and inspiring—listen now. Related links: The Whitley Fund for Nature Gerald Durrell's Army The Graduates Rogue Trader Jane Austen and George Eliot The Lady and The Radical

Welcome to Episode 237 where we DO NOT talk about the scheduled ghost story, “Thrawn Janet” by Robert Louis Stevenson due to human error. We'll discuss it on the next episode along with “The Open Door” by Margaret Oliphant. Now, on to what we DID discuss. What we're currently reading: THE GARDEN by Clare Beams, SILAS MARNER by George Eliot, and COOKING IN REAL LIFE by Lidey Heuck. What we've just read: THE SHINING by Stephen King, MEMORIAL DAYS by Geraldine Brooks, and SO FAR GONE by Jess Walter. There are Biblio Adventures: Chris talked about attending the very first Bloomsday celebration at the Guilford Free Library and watching the 1980 film adaptation of The Shining. Emily shares her stop at the Montclair Public Library in New Jersey on the way to Princeton, and recaps the excitement of attending the 2025 Aspen Food & Wine Classic and fan-girling over Nancy Silverton whose book, THE COOKIE THAT CHANGED MY LIFE, is a longtime favorite. We had a wonderful discussion at our monthly Reading Salon with Patreon supporters about short books (the flip side of last month's big books). As always we wrapped with upcoming jaunts and reads, and a reminder about our third quarter readalong in our year of reading Ghost Stories – THE UPSTAIRS HOUSE by Julia Fine with a companion read of “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. Happy Reading! https://www.bookcougars.com/blog-1/2025/episode237

Virginia Woolf once described Middlemarch as one of the few English novels 'for grown ups'

In this interview, Lamorna Ash, author of Don't Forget We're Here Forever: A New Generation's Search for Religion, and one of my favourite modern writers, talked about working at the Times Literary Supplement, netball, M. John Harrison, AI and the future of religion, why we should be suspicious of therapy, the Anatomy of Melancholy, the future of writing, what surprised her in the Bible, the Simpsons, the joy of Reddit, the new Pope, Harold Bloom, New Atheism's mistakes, reading J.S. Mill. I have already recommended her new book Don't Forget We're Here Forever, which Lamorna reads aloud from at the end. Full transcript below.Uploading videos onto Substack is too complicated for me (it affects podcast downloads somehow, and the instructions to avoid this problem are complicated, so I have stopped doing it), and to upload to YouTube I have to verify my account but they told me that after I tried to upload it and my phone is dead, so… here is the video embedded on this page. I could quote the whole thing. Here's one good section.Lamorna: Which one would you say I should do first after The Sea, The Sea?Henry: Maybe The Black Prince.Lamorna: The Black Prince. Great.Henry: Which is the one she wrote before The Sea, The Sea and is just a massive masterpiece.Lamorna: I'll read it. Where do you stand on therapy? Do you have a position?Henry: I think on net, it might be a bad thing, even if it is individually useful for people.Lamorna: Why is that?Henry: [laughs] I didn't expect to have to answer the question. Basically two reasons. I think it doesn't take enough account of the moral aspect of the decisions being made very often. This is all very anecdotal and you can find yourself feeling better in the short term, but not necessarily in the long-- If you make a decision that's not outrageously immoral, but which has not had enough weight placed on the moral considerations.There was an article about how lots of people cut out relatives now and the role that therapy plays in that. What I was struck by in the article that was-- Obviously, a lot of those people are justified and their relatives have been abusive or nasty, of course, but there are a lot of cases where you were like, "Well, this is a long-term decision that's been made on a short-term basis." I think in 10 years people may feel very differently. There wasn't enough consideration in the article, at least I felt, given to how any children involved would be affected later on. I think it's a good thing and a bad thing.Lamorna: I'm so with you. I think that's why, because also the fact of it being so private and it being about the individual, and I think, again, there are certain things if you're really struggling with that, it's helpful for, but I think I'm always more into the idea of communal things, like AAA and NA, which obviously a very particular. Something about doing that together, that it's collaborative and therefore there is someone else in the room if you say, "I want to cut out my parent."There's someone else who said that happened to me and it was really hard. It means that you are making those decisions together a little bit more. Therapy, I can feel that in friends and stuff that it does make us, even more, think that we are these bounded individuals when we're not.Henry: I should say, I have known people who've gone to therapy and it's worked really well.Lamorna: I'm doing therapy right now and it is good. TranscriptHenry: Today I am talking to Lamorna Ash. Lamorna is one of the rising stars of her generation. She has written a book about a fishing village in Cornwall. She's written columns for the New Statesman, of which I'm a great admirer. She works for a publisher and now she's written a book called, Don't Forget, We're Here Forever: A New Generation's Search for Religion. I found this book really compelling and I hope you will go and read it right now. Lamorna, welcome.Lamorna Ash: Thank you for having me.Henry: What was it like when you worked at the Times Literary Supplement?Lamorna: It was an amazing introduction to mostly contemporary fiction, but also so many other forms of writing I didn't know about. I went there, I actually wrote a letter, handwritten letter after my finals, saying that I'd really enjoyed this particular piece that somehow linked the anatomy of melancholy to infinite jest, and being deeply, deeply, deeply pretentious, those were my two favorite books. I thought, well, I'll apply for this magazine. I turned up there as an intern. They happened to have a space going.My job was Christmas in that I just spent my entire time unwrapping books and putting them out for editors to swoop by and take away. I'd take on people's corrections. I'd start to see how the editorial process worked. I started reading. I somehow had missed contemporary fiction. I hadn't read people like Rachel Kask or Nausgaard. I was reading them through going to the fiction pages. It made me very excited. Also, my other job whilst I was there, was I had the queries email. You'd get loads of incredibly random emails, including things like, you are cordially invited to go on the Joseph Conrad cycle tour of London. I'd ask the office, "Does anyone want to do this?" Obviously, no one ever said yes.I had this amazing year of doing really weird stuff, like going on Joseph Conrad cycling tour or going to a big talk at the comic book museum or the new advertising museum of London. I loved it. I really loved it.Henry: What was the Joseph Conrad cycling tour of London like? That sounds-Lamorna: Oh, it was so good. I remember at one point we stopped on maybe it was Blackfriars Bridge or perhaps it was Tower Bridge and just read a passage from the secret agent about the boats passing underneath. Then we'd go to parts of the docks where they believe that Conrad stayed for a while, but instead it would be some fancy youth hostel instead.It was run by the Polish Society of London, I believe-- the Polish Society of England, I believe. Again, each time it was like an excuse then to get into that writer and then write a little piece about it for the TLS. I guess, it was also, I was slightly cutting my teeth on how to do that kind of journalism as well.Henry: What do you like about The Anatomy of Melancholy?Lamorna: Almost everything. I think the prologue, Democritus Junior to the Reader is just so much fun and naughty. He says, "I'm writing about melancholy in order to try and avoid melancholy myself." There's six editions of it. He spent basically his entire life writing this book. When he made new additions to the book, rather than adding another chapter, he would often be making insertions within sentences themselves, so it becomes more and more bloated. There's something about the, what's the word for it, the ambition that I find so remarkable of every single possible version of melancholy they could talk about.Then, maybe my favorite bit, and I think about this as a writer a lot, is there's a bit called the digression of air, or perhaps it's digression on the air, where he just suddenly takes the reader soaring upwards to think about air and you sort of travel up like a hawk. It's this sort of breathing moment for a reader where you go in a slightly different direction. I think in my own writing, I always think about digression as this really valuable bit of nonfiction, this sense of, I'm not just taking you straight the way along. I think it'd be useful to go sideways a bit too.Henry: That was Samuel Johnson's favorite book as well. It's a good choice.Lamorna: Was it?Henry: Yes. He said that it was the only book that would get him out of bed in the morning.Lamorna: Really?Henry: Because he was obviously quite depressive. I think he found it useful as well as entertaining, as it were. Should netball be an Olympic sport?Lamorna: [laughs] Oh, it's already going to be my favorite interview. I think the reason it isn't an Olympic-- yes, I have a vested interest in netball and I play netball once a week. I'm not very good, but I am very enthusiastic because it's only played mostly in the Commonwealth. It was invented a year after basketball as a woman-friendly version because women should not run with the ball in case they get overexerted and we shouldn't get too close to contacting each other in case we touch, and that's awful.It really is only played in the Commonwealth. I think the reason it won't become an Olympic sport is because it's not worldwide enough, which I think is a reasonable reason. I'm not, of all the my big things that I want to protest about and care about right now, making that an Olympic sport is a-- it's reasonably low on my list.Henry: Okay, fair enough. You are an admirer of M. John Harrison's fiction, is that right?Lamorna: Yes.Henry: Tell us what should we read and why should we read him?Lamorna: You Should Come With Me Now, is that what it's called? I know I reviewed one of his books years ago and thought it was-- because he's part of that weird sci-fi group that I find really interesting and they've all got a bit of Samuel Delany to them as well. I just remember there was this one particular story in that collection, I think in general, he's a master at sci-fi that doesn't feel in that Dune way of just like, lists of names of places. It somehow has this, it's very literary, it's very odd, it's deeply imaginative. It is like what I wanted adult fiction to be when I was 12 or something, that there's the way the fantasy and imagination works.I remember there was one about all these men, married men who were disappearing into their attics and their wives thought they were just tinkering. What they were doing was building these sort of translucent tubes that were taking them off out of the world. I remember just thinking it was great. His conceits are brilliant and make so much sense, whilst also always being at an interesting slant from reality. Then, I haven't read his memoir, but I hear again and again this anti-memoir he's written. Have you read that?Henry: No.Lamorna: Apparently that's really brilliant too. Then he also, writes those about climbing. He's actually got this one foot in the slightly travel nature writing sports camp. I just always thought he was magic. I remember on Twitter, he was really magic as well. I spent a lot of time following him.Henry: Are you optimistic or pessimistic about the future of writing and literature and books and this whole debate that's going on?Lamorna: It's hard to. I don't want to say anything fast and snappy because it's such a complicated thing. I could just start by saying personally, I'm worried about me and writing because I'm worried about my concentration span. I am so aware that in the same way that a piano player has to be practising the pieces they're going to play all the time. I think partly that's writing and writing, I seem to be able to do even with this broken, distracted form of attention I've got. My reading, I don't feel like I'm getting enough in. I think that means that what I produce will necessarily be less good if I can't solve that.I've just bought a dumb phone on the internet and I hope that's going to help me by no longer having Instagram and things like that. I think, yes, I suppose we do read a bit less. The generation below us is reading less. That's a shame. There's so much more possibility to go out and meet people from different places. On an anthropological level, I think anthropology has had this brilliant turn of becoming more subjective. The places you go, you have to think about your own relationship to them. I think that can make really interesting writing. It's so different from early colonial anthropology.The fact that, I guess, through, although even as I'm saying this, I don't know enough to say it, but I was going to say something about the fact that people, because we can do things like substacks and people can do short form content, maybe that means that more people's voices are getting heard and then they can, if they want to, transfer over and write books as well.I still get excited by books all the time. There's still so much good contemporary stuff that's thrilling me from all over the place. I don't feel that concerned yet. If we all do stop writing books entirely for a year and just read all the extraordinary books that have been happening for the last couple of thousand, we'd be okay.Henry: I simultaneously see the same people complaining that everything's dying and literature is over and that we have an oversupply of books and that capitalism is giving us too many books and that's the problem. I'm like, "Guys, I think you should pick one."Lamorna: [laughs] You're not allowed both those arguments. My one is that I do think it's gross, the bit of publishing that the way that some of these books get so oddly inflated in terms of the sales around them. Then, someone is getting a million pounds for a debut, which is enormous pressure on them. Then, someone else is getting 2K. I feel like there should be, obviously, there should be a massive cap on how large an advance anyone should get, and then more people will actually be able to stay in the world of writing because they won't have to survive on pitiful advances. I think that would actually have a huge impact and we should not be giving, love David Beckham as much as I do, we shouldn't be giving him five million pounds for someone else to go to write his books. It's just crazy.Henry: Don't the sales of books like that subsidize those of us who are not getting such a big advance?Lamorna: I don't think they always do. I think that's the problem is that they do have this wealth of funds to give to celebrities and often those books don't sell either. I still think even if those books sell a huge amount of money, those people still shouldn't be getting ridiculous advances like that. They still should be thinking about young people who are important to the literary, who are going to produce books that are different and surprising and whose voices we need to hear. That feels much more important.Henry: What do you think about the idea that maybe Anglo fiction isn't at a peak? I don't necessarily agree with that, but maybe we can agree that these are not the days of George Eliot and Charles Dickens, but the essay nonfiction periodicals and writing online, this is huge now. Right? Actually, our pessimism is sort of because we're looking in the wrong area and there are other forms of writing that flourish, actually doing great on the internet.Lamorna: Yes, I think so too. Again, I don't think I'm internet worldly enough to know this, but I still find these extraordinary, super weird substats that feel exciting. I also get an enormous amount of pleasure in reading Reddit now, which I only just got into many, many years late, but so many fun, odd things. Like little essays that people write and the way that people respond to each other, which is quick and sharp, and I suppose it fills the gap of what Twitter was.I think nonfiction, I was talking about this morning, because I'm staying with some writers, because we're sort of Cornish, book talk thing together and how much exciting nonfiction has come out this year that we want to read from the UK that is hybrid-y nature travel. Then internationally, I still think there's-- I just read, Perfection by Vincenzo, but there's enough translated fiction that's on the international book list this year that gets me delighted as well. To me, I just don't feel worried about that kind of thing at all when there's so much exciting stuff happening.I love Reddit. I think they really understand things that other people don't on there. I think it's the relief now that when you type in something to Google, you get the AI response. It's something like, it's so nice to feel on Reddit that someone sat down and answered you. Maybe that's such a shame that that's what makes me happy now, that we're in that space. It does feel like someone will tell you not just the answer, but then give you a bit about their life. Then, the particular tool that was passed down by their grandparents. That's so nice.Henry: What do you think of the new Pope?Lamorna: I thought it was because I'd heard all the thing around fat Pope, thin Pope, and obviously, our new Pope is maybe a sort of middle Pope, or at least is closer to Francis, but maybe a bit more palatable to some people. I guess, I'm excited that he's going to do, or it seems like he's also taking time to think, but he's good on migration on supporting the rights of immigrants. I think there's value in the fact of him being American as this being this counterpoint to what's happening in America right now. If feels always feels pointless to say because they're almost the idea of a Pope.I guess, Francis said that, who am I to judge about people being gay, but I think this Pope has so far has been more outly against gay people, but he stood up against JD Vance and his stupid thoughts on theology. I'm quietly optimistic. I guess I'm also waiting for Robert Harris's prophecy to come true and we get an intersex Pope next. Because I think that was prophecy, right? What he wrote.Henry: That would be interesting.Lamorna: Yes.Henry: The religious revival that people say is happening, particularly among young people, how is AI going to make it different than previous religious revivals?Lamorna: Oh, that's so interesting. Maybe first of all, question, sorry, I choked on my coffee. I was slightly questioned the idea if there is a religious revival, it's not actually an argument that I made in the book. When I started writing the book, there wasn't this quiet revival or this Bible studies and survey that suggests that more young people are going to church hadn't come out yet. I was just more, I guess, aware that there were a few people around me who were converting and I thought it'd be interesting if there's a few, there'll be more, which I think probably happens in every single generation, right? Is that that's one way to deal with the longing for meaning we all experience and the struggles in our lives.I was speaking to a New York Times journalist who was questioning the stats that have been coming out because first it's incredibly small pool. It's quite self-selecting that possibly there are people who might have gone to church already. It's still such a small uptick because it makes it hard to say anything definitive. I guess in general, what will the relationship be between AI and religion?I guess, there are so many ways you could go with that. One is that those spaces, religious spaces, are nicely insulated from technology. Not everywhere. Obviously, in some places they aren't, but often it's a space in which you put your phone away. In my head, the desire to go to church is as against having to deal with AI or having to deal with technology being integrated to every other aspect of my life.I guess maybe people will start worshiping the idea of the singularity. Maybe we'll get the singularity and Terminator, or the Matrix is going to happen, and we'll call them our gods because they will feel like gods. That's maybe one option. I don't know how AI-- I guess I don't know enough about AI that maybe you'll have AI, or does this happen? Maybe this has happened already that you could have an AI confession and you'd have an AI priest and they tell you--Henry: Sure. It's huge for therapy, right?Lamorna: Yes.Henry: Which is that adjacent thing.Lamorna: That's a good point. It does feel something about-- I'm sure, theologically, it's not supposed to work if you haven't been ordained, but can an AI be ordained, become a priest?Henry: IndeedLamorna: Could they do communion? I don't know. It's fascinating.Henry: I can see a situation where a young person lives in a secular environment or culture and is interested in things and the AI is the, in some ways, easiest place for them to turn to say, "I need to talk about-- I have these weird semi-religious feelings, or I'm interested." The AI's not going to be like, "Oh, really? That's weird." There's the question of will we worship AI or whatever, but also will we get people's conversions being shaped by their therapy/confessors/whatever chat with their LLM?Lamorna: Oh, it's so interesting. I read a piece recently in the LRB by James Vincent. It was about AI relationships, our relationship with AI, and he looked at AI girlfriends. There was this incredible case, maybe you read about it, about a guy who tried to kill the Queen some years back. His defense was that his AI girlfriend had really encouraged him to do that. Then, you can see the transcripts of the text, and he says, "I'm thinking about killing the Queen." His AI girlfriend is like, "Go for it, baby."It's that thing there of like, at the moment, AI is still reflecting back our own desires or refracting almost like shifting how they're expressed. I'm trying to imagine that in the same case of me saying, "I feel really lonely, and I'm thinking about Christianity." My friend would speak with all of their context and background, and whatever they've got going on for them. Whereas an AI would feel my desire there and go, "That's a good idea. It says online this." It's very straight. It would definitely lead us in directions that feel less than human or other than human.Henry: I also have this thought, you used to, I think you still do, but you see it less. You used to get a Samaritan's Bible in every hotel. The Samaritans, will they start trying to install a religious chatbot in places where people--? There are lots of ways in which you could use it as a distribution mechanism.Lamorna: Which does feel so far from the point. Not to think about the gospels, but that feeling of something I talk about in the book is that, so much of it is human contact. Is that this factor of being changed in the moment, person to person. If I have any philosophy for life at the moment is this sense of desperately needing contact that we are saved by each other all the time, not by our telephones and things that aren't real. It's the surprise.I quote it in the book, but Iris Murdoch describes love is the very difficult realization that someone other than yourself is real. I think that's the thing that makes us all survive, is that reminder that if you're feeling deeply depressed, being like, there is someone else that is real, and they have a struggle that matters as much as mine. I think that's something that you are never going to get through a conversation with a chatbot, because it's like a therapeutic thing. You are not having to ask it the same questions, or you are not having to extend yourself to think about someone else in those conversations.Henry: Which Iris Murdoch novels do you like?Lamorna: I've only read The Sea, The Sea, but I really enjoyed it. Which ones do you like?Henry: I love The Sea, The Sea, and The Black Prince. I like the late books, like The Good Apprentice and The Philosopher's Pupil, as well. Some people tell you, "Don't read those. They're late works and they're no good," but I was obsessed. I was absolutely compelled, and they're still all in my head. They're insane.Lamorna: Oh, I must, because I've got a big collection of her essays. I'm thinking is so beautiful, her philosophical thought. It's that feeling, I know I'm going the wrong-- starting in the wrong place, but I do feel that she's someone I'd really love to explore next, kind of books.Henry: I think you'd like her because she's very interested in the question of, can therapy help, can philosophy help, can religion help? She's very dubious about therapy and philosophy, and she is mystic. There are queer characters and neurodivergent characters. For a novelist in the '70s, you read her now and you're like, "Well, this is all just happening now."Lamorna: Cool.Henry: Maybe we should be passing these books out. People need this right now.Lamorna: Which one would you say I should do first after The Sea, The Sea?Henry: Maybe The Black Prince.Lamorna: The Black Prince. Great.Henry: Which is the one she wrote before The Sea, The Sea and is just a massive masterpiece.Lamorna: I'll read it. Where do you stand on therapy? Do you have a position?Henry: I think on net, it might be a bad thing, even if it is individually useful for people.Lamorna: Why is that?Henry: [laughs] I didn't expect to have to answer the question. Basically two reasons. I think it doesn't take enough account of the moral aspect of the decisions being made very often. This is all very anecdotal and you can find yourself feeling better in the short term, but not necessarily in the long-- If you make a decision that's not outrageously immoral, but which has not had enough weight placed on the moral considerations.There was an article about how lots of people cut out relatives now and the role that therapy plays in that. What I was struck by in the article that was-- Obviously, a lot of those people are justified and their relatives have been abusive or nasty, of course, but there are a lot of cases where you were like, "Well, this is a long-term decision that's been made on a short-term basis." I think in 10 years people may feel very differently. There wasn't enough consideration in the article, at least I felt, given to how any children involved would be affected later on. I think it's a good thing and a bad thing.Lamorna: I'm so with you. I think that's why, because also the fact of it being so private and it being about the individual, and I think, again, there are certain things if you're really struggling with that, it's helpful for, but I think I'm always more into the idea of communal things, like AAA and NA, which obviously a very particular. Something about doing that together, that it's collaborative and therefore there is someone else in the room if you say, "I want to cut out my parent."There's someone else who said that happened to me and it was really hard. It means that you are making those decisions together a little bit more. Therapy, I can feel that in friends and stuff that it does make us, even more, think that we are these bounded individuals when we're not.Henry: I should say, I have known people who've gone to therapy and it's worked really well.Lamorna: I'm doing therapy right now and it is good. I think, in my head, it's like it should be one among many and I still question it whilst doing it.Henry: To the extent that there is a religious revival among "Gen Z," how much is it because they have phones? Because you wrote something like, in fact, I have the quote, "There's a sense of terrible tragedy. How can you hold this constant grief that we feel, whether it's the genocide in Gaza or climate collapse? Where do I put all the misery that I receive every single second through my phone? Church can then be a space where I can quietly go and light a candle." Is it that these young people are going to religion because the phone has really pushed a version of the world into their faces that was not present when I was young or people are older than me?Lamorna: I think it's one of, or that the phone is the symptom because the phone, whatever you call it, technology, the internet, is the thing that draws the world closer to us in so many different ways. One being that this sense of being aware of what's happening around in other places in the world, which maybe means that you become more tolerant of other religions because you're hearing about it more. That, on TikTok, there's loads of kids all across the world talking about their particular faiths and their background and which aspera they're in, and all that kind of thing.Then, this sense of horror being very unavoidable that you wake up and it is there and you wake up and you think, "What am I doing? What am I doing here? I feel completely useless." Perhaps then you end up in a church, but I'm not sure.I think a bigger player in my head is the fact that we are more pluralistic as societies. That you are more likely to encounter other religions in schools. I think then the question is, well then maybe that'll be valuable for me as well. I think also, not having parents pushing religion on you makes kids, the fact of the generation above the British people, your parents' generations, not saying religion is important, you go to church, then it becomes something people can become more curious about in their own right as adults. I think that plays into it.I think isolation plays into it and that's just not about technology and the phone, but that's the sense of-- and again, I'm thinking about early 20s, mid 20s, so adults who are moving from place to place, who maybe feel very isolated and alone, who are doing jobs that make them feel isolated and alone, and there are this dearth of community spaces and then thinking, well, didn't people used to go to churches, it would be so nice to know someone older than me.I don't know how this fits in, but I was thinking about, I saw this documentary, The Encampments, like two days ago, which is about the Columbia University encampments and within that, Mahmood Khalil, who's the one who's imprisoned at the moment, who was this amazing leader within the movement and is from Palestine. The phone in that, the sense about how it was used to gather and collect people and keep people aware of what's happening and mean that everyone is more conscious and there's a point when they need more people in the encampments because the police are going to come. It's like, "Everyone, use your phone, call people now." I think I can often be like, "Oh no, phones are terrible," but this sense within protest, within communal activity, how valuable they can be as well.I haven't quite gotten into that thought. I don't know, basically. I think it's so hard. I've grown up with a phone. I have no sense of how much it plays a part in everything about me, but obviously, it is a huge amount. I do think it's something that we all think about and are horrified by whilst also seeing it as like this weird extension of ourselves. That definitely plays into then culturally, the decisions we make to either try and avoid them, find spaces where you can be without them.Henry: How old do you think a child should be when they're first given a phone? A smartphone, like an iPhone type thing?Lamorna: I think, 21.Henry: Yes?Lamorna: No, I don't know. I obviously wouldn't know that about a child.Henry: I might.Lamorna: I'd love to. I would really love to because, I don't know, I have a few friends who weren't allowed to watch TV until they were 18 and they are eminently smarter than me and lots of my other friends. There's something about, I don't know, I hate the idea that as I'm getting older, I'm becoming more scaremongering like, "Oh no, when I was young--" because I think my generation was backed in loads of ways. This thing of kids spending so much less time outside and so much less time being able to imagine things, I think I am quite happy to say that feels like a terrible loss.I read a piece recently about kids in New York and I think they were quite sort of middle-class Brooklyn-y kids, but they choose to go days without their phones and they all go off into the forest together. There is this sense of saying giving kids autonomy, but at the same time, their relationship with a phone is not one of agency. It's them versus tech bros who have designed things that are so deeply addictive, that no adult can let go of it. Let alone a child who's still forming how to work out self-control, discipline and stuff. I think a good parenting thing would be to limit massively these completely non-neutral objects that they're given, that are made like crack and impossible to let go of.Henry: Do you think religious education in schools should be different or should there be more of it?Lamorna: Yes, I think it should be much better. I don't know about you, but I just remember doing loads of diagrams of different religious spaces like, "This is what a mosque looks like," and then I'd draw the diagram. I knew nothing. I barely knew the difference between the Old Testament and the New Testament. In fact, I probably didn't as a teenager.I remember actually in sixth form, having this great philosophy teacher who was talking about the idea of proto antisemitism within the gospels. I was like, "Wait, what?" Because I just didn't really understand. I didn't know that it was in Greek, that the Old Testament was in Hebrew. I just didn't know. I think all these holy texts that we've been carrying with us for thousands of years across the world have so much in them that's worth reading and knowing.If I was in charge of our R.E., I would get kids to write on all holy texts, but really think about them and try and answer moral problems. You'd put philosophy back with religion and really connect them and think, what is Nietzsche reacting against? What does Freud about how is this form of Christianity different like this? I think that my sense is that since Gove, but also I'm sure way before that as well, the sense of just not taking young people seriously, when actually they're thoughtful, intelligent and able to wrestle with these things, it's good for them to have know what they're choosing against, if they're not interested in religion.Also, at base, those texts are beautiful, all of them are, and are foundational and if you want to be able to study English or history to know things about religious texts and the practices of religion and how those rituals came about and how it's changed over thousands of years, feels important.Henry: Which religious poets do you like other than Hopkins? Because you write very nicely about Hopkins in the book.Lamorna: He's my favorite. I like John Donne a lot. I remember reading lots of his sermons and Lancelot Andrews' sermons at university and thinking they were just astonishingly beautiful. There are certain John Donne sermons and it's this feeling of when he takes just maybe a line from one of Paul's letters and then is able to extend it and extend it, and it's like he's making it grow in material or it's like it's a root where suddenly all these branches are coming off it.Who else do I like? I like George Herbert. Gosh, my brain is going in terms of who else was useful when I was thinking about. Oh it's gone.Henry: Do you like W.H. Auden?Lamorna: Oh yes. I love Auden, yes. I was rereading his poems about, oh what's it called? The one about Spain?Henry: Oh yes.Lamorna: About the idea of tomorrow.Henry: I don't have a memory either, but I know the poem you mean, yes.Lamorna: Okay. Then I'm trying to think of earlier religious poets. I suppose things like The Dream of the Rood and fun ways of getting into it and if you're looking at medieval poetry.Henry: I also think Betjeman is underrated for this.Lamorna: I've barely read any Betjeman.Henry: There's a poem called Christmas. You might like it.Lamorna: Okay.Henry: It's this famous line and is it true and is it true? He really gets into this thing of, "We're all unwrapping tinsely presents and I'm sitting here trying to work out if God became man." It's really good. It's really good. The other one is called Norfolk and again, another famous line, "When did the devil first attack?" It talks about puberty as the arrival of the awareness of sin and so forth.Lamorna: Oh, yes.Henry: It's great. Really, really good stuff. Do you personally believe in the resurrection?Lamorna: [chuckles] I keep being asked this.Henry: I know. I'm sorry.Lamorna: My best answer is sometimes. Because I do sometimes in that way that-- someone I interviewed who's absolutely brilliant in the book, Robert, and he's a Cambridge professor. He's a pragmatist and he talks about the idea of saying I'm a disciplined person means nothing unless you're enacting that discipline daily or it falls away. For him, that belief in a Kierkegaardian leap way is something that needs to be reenacted in every moment to say, I believe and mean it.I think there are moments when my church attendance is better and I'm listening to a reading that's from Acts or whatever and understanding the sense of those moments, Paul traveling around Europe and Asia Minor, only because he fully believed that this is what's happened. Those letters and as you're reading those letters, the way I read literature or biblical writing is to believe in that moment because for that person, they believe too. I think there are points at which the resurrection can feel true to me, but it does feel like I'm accessing that idea of truth in a different way than I am accessing truth about-- it's close to how I think about love as something that's very, very real, but very different from experiential feelings.I had something else I wanted to say about that and it's just gone. Oh yes. I was at Hay Festival a couple of weeks ago. Do you know the Philosopher Agnes Callard?Henry: Oh, sure.Lamorna: She gave a really great talk about Socrates and her love of Socrates, but she also came to my talk and she and her husband, who I think met through arguing about Aristotle, told me they argued for about half a day about a line I'd said, which was that during writing the book, I'd learned to believe in the belief of other people, her husband was like, "You can't believe in the belief of other people if you don't believe it too. That doesn't work. That doesn't make sense." I was like, "That's so interesting." I can so feel that if we're taking that analytically, that if I say I don't believe in the resurrection, not just that I believe you believe it, but I believe in your belief in the resurrection. At what point is that any different from saying, I believe in the resurrection. I feel like I need to spend more time with it. What the slight gap is there that I don't have that someone else does, or as I say it, do I then believe in the resurrection that moment? I'm not sure.I think also what I'm doing right now is trying to sound all clever with it, whereas for other people it's this deep ingrained truth that governs every moment of their life and that they can feel everywhere, or perhaps they can't. Perhaps there's more doubt than they suggest, which I think is the case with lots of us. Say on the deathbed, someone saying that they fully believe in the resurrection because that means there's eternal salvation, and their family believe in that too. I don't think I have that kind of certainty, but I admire it.Henry: Tell me how you got the title for this book from an episode of The Simpsons.Lamorna: It's really good app. It's from When Maggie Makes Three, which is my favorite episode. I think titles are horribly hard. I really struck my first book. I would have these sleepless nights just thinking about words related to the sea, and be like, blue something. I don't know. There was a point where my editor wanted to call it Trawler Girl. I said, "We mustn't. That's awful. That's so bad. It makes me sound like a terrible superhero. I'm not a girl, I'm a woman."With this one, I think it was my fun title for ages. Yes, it's this plaque that Homer has put-- Mr. Burns puts up this plaque to remind him that he will never get to leave the power plant, "Don't forget you're here forever."I just think it's a strong and bonkers line. I think it had this element of play or silliness that I wanted, that I didn't think about too hard. I guess that's an evangelical Christian underneath what they're actually saying is saying-- not all evangelicals, but often is this sense of no, no, no, we are here forever. You are going to live forever. That is what heaven means.That sense of then saying it in this jokey way. I think church is often very funny spaces, and funny things happen. They make good comedy series when you talk about faith.Someone's saying she don't forget we're here forever. The don't forget makes it so colloquial and silly. I just thought it was a funny line for that reason.Then also that question people always ask, "Is religion going to die out?" I thought that played into it. This feeling that, yes, I write about it. There was a point when I was going to an Extinction Rebellion protest, and everyone was marching along with that symbol of the hourglass inside a circle next to a man who had a huge sign saying, "Stop, look, hell is real, the end of the world is coming." This sense of different forms of apocalyptic thinking that are everywhere at the moment. I felt like the title worked for that as well.Henry: I like that episode of The Simpsons because it's an expression of an old idea where he's doing something boring and his life is going to slip away bit by bit. The don't forget you're here forever is supposed to make that worse, but he turns it round into the live like you're going to die tomorrow philosophy and makes his own kind of meaning out of it.Lamorna: By papering it over here with pictures of Maggie. They love wordplay, the writers of The Simpsons, and so that it reads, "Do it for her," instead. That feeling of-- I think that with faith as well of, don't forget we're here forever, think about heaven when actually so much of our life is about papering it over with humanity and being like, "Does it matter? I'm with you right now, and that's what matters." That immediacy of human contact that church is also really about, that joy in the moment. Where it doesn't really matter in that second if you're going to heaven or hell, or if that exists. You're there together, and it's euphoric, or at least it's a relief or comforting.Henry: You did a lot of Bible study and bible reading to write this book. What were the big surprises for you?Lamorna: [chuckles] This is really the ending, but revelation, I don't really think it's very well written at all. It shouldn't be in there, possibly. It's just not [unintelligible 00:39:20] It got added right in the last minute. I guess it should be in there. I just don't know. What can I say?So much of it was a surprise. I think slowly reading the Psalms was a lovely surprise for me because they contain so much uncertainty and anguish, and doubt. Imagining those being read aloud to me always felt like a very exciting thing.Henry: Did you read them aloud?Lamorna: When I go to more Anglo Catholic services, they tend to do them-- I never know how to pronounce this. Antiphonally.Henry: Oh yes.Lamorna: Back and forth between you. It's very reverential, lovely experience to do that. I really think I was surprised by almost everything I was reading. At the start of Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling, he does this amazing thing where he does four different versions of what could be happening in the Isaac and Abraham story underneath.There's this sense of in the Bible, and I'm going to get this wrong, but in Mimesis, Auerbach talks about the way that you're not given the psychological understanding within the Bible. There's so much space for readers to think with, because you're just being told things that happened, and the story moves on quickly, moment by moment. With Isaac and Abraham, what it would mean if Isaac actually had seen the fact that his father was planning to kill him. Would he then lose his faith? All these different scenarios.I suddenly realised that the Bible was not just a fixed text, but there was space to play with it as well. In the book, I use the story of Jacob and the angel and play around with the meaning of that and what would happen after this encounter between Jacob and an angel for both of them.Bits in the Gospels, I love the story of the Gerasene Demoniac. He was a knight. He was very unwell, and no one knew what to do with him. He was ostracised from his community. He would sit in this cave and scream and lacerate himself against the cave walls. Then Jesus comes to him and speaks to him and speaks to the demons inside him. There's this thing in Mark's Gospel that Harold Bloom talks about, where only demons are actually able to perceive. Most people have to ask Christ who he really is, but demons can perceive him immediately and know he's the son of God.The demons say that they are legion. Then Jesus puts them into 1,000 pigs. Is it more? I can't remember. Then they're sent off over the cliff edge. Then the man is made whole and is able to go back to his community. I just think there's just so much in that. It's so rich and strange. I think, yes, there's something about knowing you could sit down and just read a tiny bit of the Bible and find something strange and unusual that also might speak to something you've read that's from thousands of years later.I also didn't know that in Mark's Gospel, the last part of it is addended, added on to it. Before that, it ended with the women being afraid, seeing the empty tomb, but there's no resolution. There's no sense of Christ coming back as spirit. It ended in this deep uncertainty and fear. I thought that was so fascinating because then again, it reminds you that those texts have been played around with and thought with, and meddled with, and changed over time. It takes away from the idea that it's fixed and certain, the Bible.Henry: What did you think of Harold Bloom's book The Shadow of a Great Rock?Lamorna: I really loved it. He says that he treats Shakespeare more religiously and the Bible more like literature, which I found a funny, irreverent thing to say. There's lovely stuff in there where, I think it was Ruth, he was like, maybe it was written by a woman. He takes you through the different Hebrew writers for Genesis. Which again, becoming at this as such a novice in so many ways, realising that, okay, so when it's Yahweh, it's one particular writer, there's the priestly source for particular kinds of writing. The Yahwist is more ironic, or the God you get is more playful.That was this key into thinking about how each person trying to write about God, it's still them and their sense of the world, which is particular and idiosyncratic is forming the messages that they believe they're receiving from God. I found that exciting.Yes, he's got this line. He's talking about the blessings that God gives to men in Genesis. He's trying to understand, Bloom, what the meaning of a blessing is. He describes it as more life into a time without boundaries. That's a line that I just found so beautiful, and always think about what the meaning of that is. I write it in the book.My best friend, Sammy, who's just the most game person in the world, that you tell them anything, they're like, "Cool." I told them that line. They were like, "I'm getting it tattooed on my arm next week." Then got me to write in my handwriting. I can only write in my handwriting, but write down, "More time into life without boundaries." Now they've just got it on their arm.Henry: Nice.Lamorna: I really like. They're Jewish, non-practicing. They're not that really interested in it. They were like, "That's a good line to keep somewhere."Henry: I think it's actually one of Bloom's best books. There's a lot of discussion about, is he good? Is he not good? I love that book because it really just introduces people to the Bible and to different versions of the Bible. He does all that Harold Bloom stuff where he's like, "These are the only good lines in this particular translation of this section. The rest is so much dross.He's really attentive to the differences between the translations, both theologically but also aesthetically. I think a lot of people don't know the Bible. It's a really good way to get started on a-- sitting down and reading the Bible in order. It's going to fail for a lot of people. Harold Bloom is a good introduction that actually gives you a lot of the Bible itself.Lamorna: For sure, because it's got that midrash feeling of being like someone else working around it, which then helps you get inside it. I was reading that book whilst going to these Bible studies at a conservative evangelical church called All Souls. I wasn't understanding what on earth was going on in Mark through the way that we're being told to read it, which is kids' comprehension.Maybe it was useful to think about why would the people have been afraid when Christ quelled the storms? It was doing something, but there was no sense of getting inside the text. Then, to read alongside that, Bloom saying that the Christ in Mark is the most unknowable of all the versions of Christ. Then again, just thinking, "Oh, hang on." There's an author. The author of Mark's gospel is perceiving Christ in a particular way. This is the first of the gospels writing about Christ. What does it mean? He's unknowable. Suddenly thinking of him as a character, and therefore thinking about how people are relating to him. It totally cracks the text open for you.Henry: Do you think denominational differences are still important? Do most people have actual differences in dogma, or are they just more cultural distinctions?Lamorna: They're ritual distinctions. There really is little that you could compare between a Quaker meeting and a Catholic service. That silence is the fundamental aspect of all of it. There's a sense of enlighten.My Quaker mate, Lawrence, he's an atheist, but he wouldn't go to another church service because he's so against the idea of hierarchy and someone speaking from a pulpit. He's like, honestly, the reincarnated spirit of George Fox in many ways, in lots of ways he's not.I guess it becomes more blurry because, yes, there's this big thing in the early 20th century in Britain anyway, where the line that becomes more significant is conservative liberal. It's very strange that that's how our world gets divided. There's real simplification that perhaps then, a liberal Anglican church and a liberal Catholic church have more in relationship than a conservative Catholic church and a conservative evangelical church. The line that is often thinking about sexuality and marriage.I was interested, people have suddenly was called up in my book that I talk about sex a lot. I think it's because sex comes up so much, it feels hard not to. That does seem to be more important than denominational differences in some ways. I do think there's something really interesting in this idea of-- Oh, [unintelligible 00:48:17] got stung. God, this is a bit dramatic. Sorry, I choked on coffee earlier. Now I'm going to get stung by a bee.Henry: This is good. This is what makes a podcast fun. What next?Lamorna: You don't get this in the BBC studios. Maybe you do. Oh, what was I about to say? Oh, yes. I like the idea of church shopping. People saying that often it speaks to the person they are, what they're looking for in a church. I think it's delightful to me that there's such a broad church, and there's so many different spaces that you can go into to discover the church that's right for you. Sorry. I'm really distracted by this wasp or bee. Anyway.Henry: How easy was it to get people to be honest with you?Lamorna: I don't know. I think that there's certain questions that do tunnel right through to the heart of things. Faith seems to be one of them. When you talk about faith with people, you're getting rid of quite a lot of the chaff around with the politeness or whatever niceties that you'd usually speak about.I was talking about this with another friend who's been doing this. He's doing a play about Grindr. He was talking about how strange it is that when you ask to interview someone and you have a dictaphone there, you do get a deeper instant conversation. Again, it's a bit like a therapeutic conversation where someone has said to you, "I'm just going to sit and listen." You've already agreed, and you know it's going to be in a book. "Do you mind talking about this thing?"That just allows this opportunity for people to be more honest because they're aware that the person there is actually wanting to listen. It's so hard to create spaces. I create a cordon and say, "We're going to have a serious conversation now." Often, that feels very artificial. I think yes, the beauty of getting to sit there with a dictaphone on your notebook is you are like, "I really am interested in this. It really matters to me." I guess it feels easy in that way to get honesty.Obviously, we're all constructing a version of ourselves for each other all the time. It's hard for me to know to what extent they're responding to what they're getting from me, and what they think I want to hear. If someone else interviewed them, they would probably get something quite different. I don't know. I think if you come to be with openness, and you talk a bit about your journey, then often people want to speak about it as well.I'm trying to think. I've rarely interviewed someone where I haven't felt this slightly glowy, shimmery sense of it, or what I'm learning feels new and feels very true. I felt the same with Cornish Fisherman, that there was this real honesty in these conversations. Many years ago, I remember I got really obsessed with interviewing my mom. I think I was just always wanting to practice interviewing. The same thing that if there's this object between you, it shifts the dimensions of the conversation and tends towards seriousness.Henry: How sudden are most people's conversions?Lamorna: Really depends. I was in this conversation with someone the other day. When she was 14, 15, she got caught shoplifting. She literally went, "Oh, if there's a God up there, can you help get me out of the situation?" The guy let her go, and she's been a Christian ever since. She had an instantaneous conversion. Someone I interviewed in the book, and he was a really thoughtful card-carrying atheist. He had his [unintelligible 00:51:58] in his back pocket.He hated the Christians and would always have a go at them at school because he thought it was silly, their belief. Then he had this instant conversion that feels very charismatic in form, where he was just walking down an avenue of trees at school, and he felt the entire universe smiling at him and went, "Oh s**t, I better become a Christian."Again, I wonder if it depends. I could say it depends on the person you are, whether you are capable of having an instant conversion. Perhaps if I were in a religious frame of mind, I'd say it depends on what God would want from you. Do you need an instant conversion, or do you need to very slowly have the well filling up?I really liked when a priest said to me that people often go to church and expect to be changed in a moment. He's like, "No, you have to go for 20 years before anything happens." Something about that slow incremental conversion to me is more satisfying. It's funny, I was having a conversation with someone about if they believe in ghosts, and they were like, "Well, if I saw one, then I believe in ghosts." For some people, transcendental things happen instantaneously, and it does change them ultimately instantly.I don't know, I would love to see some stats about which kinds of conversions are more popular, probably more instant ones. I love, and I use it in the book, but William James' Varieties of Religious Experience. He talks about there's some people who are sick-souled or who are also more porous bordered people for whom strange things can more easily cross the borders of their person. They're more likely to convert and more likely to see things.I really like him describing it that way because often someone who's like that, it might just be described as well, you have a mental illness. That some people are-- I don't know, they've got sharper antennae than the rest of us. I think that is an interesting thought for why some people can convert instantly.Henry: I think all conversions take a long time. At the moment, there's often a pivotal moment, but there's something a long time before or after that, that may or may not look a conversion, but which is an inevitable part of the process. I'm slightly obsessed with the idea of quests, but I think all conversions are a quest or a pilgrimage. Your book is basically a quest narrative. As you go around in your Toyota, visiting these places. I'm suspicious, I think the immediate moment is bundled up with a longer-term thing very often, but it's not easy to see it.Lamorna: I love that. I've thought about the long tail afterwards, but I hadn't thought about the lead-up, the idea of that. Of what little things are changing. That's such a lovely thought. Their conversions began from birth, maybe.Henry: The shoplifter, it doesn't look like that's where they're heading. In retrospect, you can see that there weren't that many ways out of this path that they're on. Malcolm X is like this. One way of reading his autobiography is as a coming-of-age story. Another way of reading it is, when is this guy going to convert? This is going to happen.Lamorna: I really like that. Then there's also that sense of how fixed the conversion is, as well, from moment to moment. That Adam Phillips' book on wanting to change, he talks about our desire for change often outstrips our capacity for change. That sense of how changed am I afterwards? How much does my conversion last in every moment? It goes back to the do you believe in the resurrection thing.I find that that really weird thing about writing a book is, it is partly a construction. You've got the eye in there. You're creating something that is different from your reality and fixed, and you're in charge of it. It's stable, it remains, and you come to an ending. Then your life continues to divert and deviate in loads of different ways. It's such a strange thing in that way. Every conversion narrative we have fixed in writing, be it Augustine or Paul, whatever, is so far from the reality of that person's experience.Henry: What did the new atheists get wrong?Lamorna: Arrogance. They were arrogant. Although I wonder, I guess it was such a cultural moment, and perhaps in the same way that everyone is in the media, very excitedly talking about revival now. There was something that was created around them as well, which was delight in this sense of the end of something. I wonder how much of that was them and how much of it was, they were being carried along by this cultural media movement.I suppose the thing that always gets said, and I haven't read enough Dawkins to say this with any authority, but is that the form of religion that he was attempting to denigrate was a very basic form of Christianity, a real, simplified sense. That he did that with all forms of religion. Scientific progress shows us we've progressed beyond this point, and we don't need this, and it's silly and foolish.I guess he underestimated the depth and richness of religion, and also the fact of this idea of historical progress, when the people in the past were foolish, when they were as bright and stupid as we are now.Henry: I think they believed in the secularization idea. People like Rodney Stark and others were pointing out that it's not really true that we secularized a lot more consistency. John Gray, the whole world is actually very religious. This led them away from John Stuart Mill-type thinking about theism. I think everyone should read more John Stuart Mill, but they particularly should have read the theism essays. That would have been--Lamorna: I've only just got into him because I love the LRB Close Reading podcast. It's Jonathan Rée and James Wood. They did one on John Stuart Mill's autobiography, which I've since been reading. It's an-Henry: It's a great book.Lamorna: -amazing book. His crisis is one of-- He says, "The question of religion is not something that has been a part of my life, but the sense of being so deeply learned." His dad was like, "No poetry." In his crisis moment, suddenly realizing that that's what he needed. He was missing feeling, or he was missing a way of looking at the world that had questioning and doubt within it through poetry.There was a bit in the autobiography, and he talks about when he was in this deep depression, whenever he was at 19 or something. That he was so depressed that he thought if there's a certain number of musical notes, one day there will be no more new music because every single combination will have been done. The sense of, it's so sweetly awful thinking, but without the sense-- I'm not sure what I'm trying to say here.I found his crisis so fascinating to read about and how he comes out of that through this care and attention of beautiful literature and thinking, and through his love of-- What was his wife called again?Henry: Harriet.Lamorna: Harriet. He credits her for almost all his thinking. He wouldn't have moved towards socialism without her. Suddenly, humans are deeply important to him. He feels sorry for the fact that his dad could not express love or take love from him, and that that was such a terrible deficiency in his life.Henry: Mill's interesting on religion because he looks very secular. In fact, if you read his letters, he's often going into churches.Lamorna: Oh, really?Henry: Yes, when he's in Italy, because he had tuberculosis. He had to be abroad a lot. He's always going to services at Easter and going into the churches. For a secular person, he really appreciates all these aspects of religion. His stepdaughter was-- there's a diary of hers in their archives. She was very religious, very intense. As a young woman, when she's 16, 17, intensely Catholic or Anglo-Catholic. Really, it's quite startling.I was reading this thing, and I was like, "Wait, who in the Mill household is writing this? This is insane." There are actually references in his letters where he says, "Oh, we'll have to arrive in time for Good Friday so that she can go to church." He's very attentive to it. Then he writes these theism essays, right at the end of his life. He's very open-minded and very interrogatory of the idea. He really wants to understand. He's not a new atheist at all.Lamorna: Oh, okay. I need to read the deism essays.Henry: You're going to love it. It's very aligned. What hymns do you like?Lamorna: Oh, no.Henry: You can be not a hymn person.Lamorna: No. I'm not a massive hymn person. When I'm in church, the Anglican church that I go to in London now, I always think, "Remember that. That was a really nice one." I like to be a pilgrim. I really don't have the brain that can do this off the cuff. I'm not very musically. I'm deeply unmusical.There was one that I was thinking of. I think it's an Irish one. I feel like I wrote this down at one point, because I thought I might be asked in another interview. I had to write down what I thought in case a hymn that I liked. Which sounds a bit like a politician, when they're asked a question, they're like, "I love football." I actually can't think of any. I'm sorry.Henry: No, that's fine.Lamorna: What are your best? Maybe that will spark something in me.Henry: I like Tell Out My Soul. Do you know that one?Lamorna: Oh, [sings] Tell Out My Soul. That's a good one.Henry: If you have a full church and people are really going for it, that can be amazing. I like all the classics. I don't have any unusual choices. Tell Out My Soul, it's a great one. Lamorna Ash, this has been great. Thank you very much.Lamorna: Thank you.Henry: To close, I think you're going to read us a passage from your book.Lamorna: I am.Henry: This is near the end. It's about the Bible.Lamorna: Yes. Thank you so much. This has definitely been my favourite interview.Henry: Oh, good.Lamorna: I really enjoyed it. It's really fun.Henry: Thank you.Lamorna: Yes, this is right near the end. This is when I ended up at a church, St Luke's, West Holloway. It was a very small 9:00 AM service. Whilst the priest who'd stepped in to read because the actual priest had left, was reading, I just kept thinking about all the stories that I'd heard and wondering about the Bible and how the choices behind where it ends, where it ends.I don't think I understand why the Bible ends where it does. The final lines of the book of Revelation are, "He who testifies to these things says, Yes, I am coming soon. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus, the grace of the Lord Jesus be with God's people. Amen." Which does sound like a to-be-continued. I don't mean the Bible feels incomplete because it ends with Revelation. What I mean is, if we have continued to hear God and wrestle with him and his emissaries ever since the first overtures of the Christian faith sounded.Why do we not treat these encounters with the same reverence as the works assembled in the New Testament? Why have we let our holy text grow so antique and untouchable instead of allowing them to expand like a divine Wikipedia updated in perpetuity? That way, each angelic struggle and Damascene conversion that has ever occurred or one day will, would become part of its fabric.In this Borgesian Bible, we would have the Gospel of Mary, not a fictitious biography constructed by a man a century after her death, but her true words. We would have the conversion of the Ethiopian eunuch on the road between Jerusalem and Gaza from Acts, but this time given in the first person. We would have descriptions from the Picts on Iona of the Irish Saint Columba appearing in a rowboat over the horizon.We would have the Gospels of those from the early Eastern Orthodox churches, Assyrian Gospels, Syriac Orthodox Gospels. We would have records of the crusades from the Christian soldiers sent out through Europe to Jerusalem in order to massacre those of other faiths, both Muslim and Jewish. In reading these accounts, we would be forced to confront the ways in which scripture can be interpreted

In a world competing for our attention, our guest this week admits: “It's probably harder to read novels now than it ever was.” But their value cannot be overstated. The novel's unique humanity, its careful and open treatment of the human experience, helps us to develop a sympathetic imagination, tuning our hearts and minds in a way that non-fiction argument simply cannot. Christopher Scalia, author of 13 Novels Conservatives Will Love (but Probably Haven't Read), makes the case that it is a distinctly conservative interest to explore the Western tradition through fiction. Recommendations in hand, he invites adults to refresh their reading list with novels—from the very inception of the form up to the present. Chapters: 1:47 The great book rut 4:11 Novels: the medium of recent Western tradition 5:30 The 18th-century bildungsroman 9:47 “Conservative” themes 16:18 The American dream in My Ántonia 22:39 Miraculous realism in Peace Like a River 29:02 Acknowledging the existence of evil 31:44 Wonder and encounter over strict interpretation 37:03 Revisiting works from your school years 38:47 Why narrative works 42:01 Books that nearly made the cut Links: 13 Novels Conservatives Will Love (but Probably Haven't Read) by Christopher Scalia Christopher J. Scalia at American Enterprise Institute The History of Rasselas by Samuel Johnson (1759) Evelina by Frances Burney (1778) Waverley by Sir Walter Scott (1814) The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1852) Daniel Deronda by George Eliot (1876) My Ántonia by Willa Cather (1918) Their Eyes Were Watching God by Zora Neale Hurston (1937) The Girls of Slender Means by Muriel Spark (1963) The Children of Men by P. D. James (1992) Peace Like a River by Leif Enger (2001) Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (2004) The Road by Cormac McCarthy (2006) How I Won a Nobel Prize: A Novel by Julius Taranto (2023) Also on the Forum: Heights Forum Book Reviews On Reading Literature by Joseph Bissex Some Summer Reading Recommendations for Teachers by Tom Cox Modern Literature: On Curating the Contemporary featuring Mike Ortiz Guiding Our Boys through Modern Literature featuring Joe Breslin and Lionel Yaceczko Featured opportunities: Teaching Essentials Workshop at The Heights School (June 16-20, 2025) Convivium for Teaching Men at The Heights School (November 13-15, 2025)

Headteachers are gathering today in Harrogate for the annual conference of the National Association of Head Teachers. The negative effects on their students of smartphones and social media access has become a national conversation in recent months, with differing views on who should take the lead in protecting children; the Government, schools, parents, or tech companies. Anita Rani talks to secondary head Emma Mills. Her school, Birchwood High in Warrington, attracted national attention two years ago when teenager Brianna Ghey was murdered. Emma joins Anita to explain why she implemented the ban and what the effects have been so far.Barrister and campaigner Charlotte Proudman first came to prominence ten years ago when she called out a lawyer on LinkedIn who praised her profile picture. Never afraid to speak her mind, she talks to Anita about her new book ‘He said, She Said: Truth, Trauma and the Struggle for Justice in Family Court'.Writer George Eliot is brought to life in a new stage setting, accompanied by contemporary music by British female singer songwriters and using mainly her own words to tell her story. Author of seven novels, a poet and translator, George Eliot - real name Mary Ann Evans - was ahead of her time, befriended pioneering feminists and at one point became the second richest woman in England after Queen Victoria. Performers SuRie and Hermione Norris join Anita to discuss their celebration of her extraordinary and ground breaking life. Presenter: Anita Rani Producer: Laura Northedge

"The next person I want to present to you is Andrew Leslie. I'm fairly certain none of you know that name. But I hope that after several episodes, his “hidden life” and “unvisited tomb”, to use George Eliot's phrases from the last line of her novel “Middlemarch”, will be honored."   For more information, visit CBTSeminary.org

The next person I want to present to you is Andrew Leslie. I'm fairly certain none of you know that name. But I hope that after several episodes, his “hidden life” and “unvisited tomb”, to use George Eliot's phrases from the last line of her novel “Middlemarch”, will be honored.For more information, visit CBTSeminary.org

"The next person I want to present to you is Andrew Leslie. I'm fairly certain none of you know that name. But I hope that after several episodes, his “hidden life” and “unvisited tomb”, to use George Eliot's phrases from the last line of her novel “Middlemarch”, will be honored."   For more information, visit CBTSeminary.org

Herded by Miracles: An only child, a burden to her single mother and born in South Africa in the middle of a war, the author had to discern life's purpose by living it. She rides through the widest emotional landscapes of contrast: the Apartheid conflict between black and white, between Boer and British, and the disconnect between African and European cultures, the generosity of strangers, the betrayal of friends, and rejection by family. Through all these mirrors, the patchwork pilgrimage is towards the transcendent lovingness of Creation. We all have a lamp to trim for the coming of our bridegroom. This harrowing but often humorous chronicle (God tells good stories with both wit and parody) is one such Trimming. Its natural mysticism emerges like smoke from damp leaves. Only the inspiration of George Eliot and her nostalgic portraits of England's ancient antiquity and its unsung heroes kept her company, affirmed her independence of mind, and fostered a new Book of Revelations

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/science

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Back in 2021, John and Elizabeth sat down with Brandeis string theorist Albion Lawrence to discuss cooperation versus solitary study across disciplines. They sink their teeth into the question, “Why do scientists seem to do collaboration and teamwork better than other kinds of scholars and academics?” The conversation ranges from the merits of collective biography to the influence of place and geographic location in scientific collaboration to mountaineering traditions in the sciences. As a Recallable Book, Elizabeth champions The People of Puerto Rico, an experiment in ethnography of a nation (in this case under colonial rule) from 1956, including a chapter by Robert Manners, founding chair of the Brandeis Department of Anthropology. Albion sings the praises of a collective biography of the Art Ensemble of Chicago, A Message to Our Folks. But John stays true to his Victorianist roots by praising the contrasting images of the withered humanist Casaubon and the dashing young scientist Lydgate in George Eliot's own take on collective biography, Middlemarch. Discussed in this episode: Richard Rhodes Making of the Atomic Bomb Ann Finkbeiner, The Jasons: The Secret History of Science's Postwar Elite James Gleick, The Information Jon Gertner, The Idea Factory: Bell Labs and the Great Age of American Innovation Black Hole photographs win giant prize Adam Jaffe, “Geographic Localization of Knowledge Spillovers as Evidenced by Patent Citations“ Jamie Cohen-Cole, The Open Mind Julian Steward et al., The People of Puerto Rico Paul Steinbeck, Message to Our Folks Jenny Uglow, Lunar Men George Eliot, Middlemarch Listen to and Read the episode here. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Tonight, we'll read the opening to “Middlemarch, A Study of Provincial Life” written by English author George Eliot, and originally published in 1871. George Eliot is the pen name of Mary Ann Evans. The novel is set in a fictional English Midlands town in the early 1800s, following many separate characters whose lives intersect at times. Issues include the status of women, the nature of marriage, idealism, self-interest, religion, hypocrisy, political reform, and education. Initial reviews were mixed, but it is now seen widely as her best work and one of the great English novels. — read by 'V' — Sign up for Snoozecast+ to get expanded, ad-free access by going to snoozecast.com/plus! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

On this episode, Tony Brueski digs into one of London's most hauntingly beautiful—and paranormally charged—cemeteries: Highgate. Established in 1839, this sprawling Victorian burial ground became a resting place for some of history's greatest minds, including Karl Marx and George Eliot. But beneath its towering tombstones and weathered statues lies a far darker legend—one filled with ghostly figures, chilling whispers, and even tales of a vampire said to stalk its pathways.   Join Tony as he uncovers the strange history of Highgate Cemetery, from its days as a grand garden burial ground to its descent into ruin and rebirth as a paranormal hotspot. With firsthand accounts, historical records, and expert theories, this episode digs into whether Highgate's hauntings are the product of environmental triggers, psychological suggestion—or something far more sinister.

On this episode, Tony Brueski digs into one of London's most hauntingly beautiful—and paranormally charged—cemeteries: Highgate. Established in 1839, this sprawling Victorian burial ground became a resting place for some of history's greatest minds, including Karl Marx and George Eliot. But beneath its towering tombstones and weathered statues lies a far darker legend—one filled with ghostly figures, chilling whispers, and even tales of a vampire said to stalk its pathways.   Join Tony as he uncovers the strange history of Highgate Cemetery, from its days as a grand garden burial ground to its descent into ruin and rebirth as a paranormal hotspot. With firsthand accounts, historical records, and expert theories, this episode digs into whether Highgate's hauntings are the product of environmental triggers, psychological suggestion—or something far more sinister.

Recorded by staff of the Academy of American Poets for Poem-a-Day, a series produced by the Academy of American Poets. Published on March 30, 2025. www.poets.org

God will rebuild your ruins: “It's never too late to be what you might have been.” —George Eliot 

Homenatge al traductor Xavier P

In this episode of The Mookse and the Gripes Podcast, we're joined by Rohan Maitzen to explore the multifaceted world of historical fiction. Rohan guides us through the genre, unpacking its many layers and surprising complexities. From timeless classics to unexpected gems, we share some of our favorite examples from the genre and discuss how historical fiction challenges our perceptions of the past and sparks conversations about the present, all while whisking us away to another time. Whether you're drawn to sweeping epics or intimate character studies, tune in for a thought-provoking discussion that will enhance the way you think about historical fiction!Join the Mookse and the Gripes on DiscordWe're creating a welcoming space for thoughtful, engaging discussions about great novellas, starting with First Love by Ivan Turgenev in April. Whether you want to share insights, ask questions, or simply follow along, we'd love to have you. The discussion will unfold gradually, so you can read at your own pace and jump in whenever you're ready. It's a great way to connect with fellow readers, explore new works together, and deepen your appreciation for the novella form.For the first book, the schedule will be as follows:* April 6: Start of the book through Section 9* April 9: Section 10 through Section 16* April 13: Section 17 through the endShownotesBooks* Widening the Skirts of Light: Essays on George Eliot, by Rohan Maitzen* Middlemarch for Book Clubs, by Rohan Maitzen* Middlemarch, by George Eliot* Daniel Deronda, by George Eliot* Pride and Prejudice, by Jane Austen* The Lymond Chronicles, by Dorothy Dunnett* My Lady Jane, by Cynthia Hand* Stone Yard Devotional, Charlotte Wood* All Fours, by Miranda July* Mrs. Death Misses Death, by Salena Godden* Telephone, by Percival Everett* Jane Austen's Bookshelf: A Rare Book Collector's Quest to Find the Women Writers Who Shaped a Legend, by Rebecca Romney* Evelina, by Frances Burney* Northanger Abbey, by Jane Austen* The Mysteries of Udolpho, by Ann Radcliffe* The Snow Child, by Eowyn Ivey* Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry* Waverley; or, 'Tis Sixty Years Since, by Walter Scott* Adam Bede, by George Eliot* Romola, by George Eliot* The Cater Street Hangman, by Anne Perry* The Whitechapel Conspiracy, by Anne Perry* Kindred, by Octavia Butler* An Unsuitable Job for a Woman, by P.D. James* The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas* Burial Rites, by Hannah Kent* The Young Mary Queen of Scots, by Jean Plaidy* Murder Most Royal, by Jean Plaidy* Lives of the Queens of England, by Agnes and Elizabeth Strickland* Year of Wonders, by Geraldine Brooks* Siege of Krishnapur, by J.G. Farrell* Troubles, by J.G. Farrell* The Singapore Grip, by J.G. Farrell* Hamnet, by Maggie O'Farrell* A Long Long Way, by Sebastian Barry* Tree of Smoke, by Denis Johnson* Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks* The Killer Angels, by Michael Shaara* Train Dreams, by Denis Johnson* My Lady Of Cleves, by Margaret Campbell Barnes* Child of the Morning, by Pauline Gedge* The Eagle and the Raven, by Pauline GedgeOther* Episode 64: Victorian LiteratureThe Mookse and the Gripes Podcast is a bookish conversation hosted by Paul and Trevor. Every other week, we explore a bookish topic and celebrate our love of reading. We're glad you're here, and we hope you'll continue to join us on this literary journey!A huge thank you to those who help make this podcast possible! If you'd like to support us, you can do so via Substack or Patreon. Subscribers receive access to periodic bonus episodes and early access to all new episodes. Plus, each supporter gets their own dedicated feed, allowing them to download episodes a few days before they're released to the public. We'd love for you to check it out! This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit mookse.substack.com/subscribe

What should great fiction do for us? That's the question asked by Edwin Frank, editorial director of New York Review Books and author of Stranger than Fiction: Lives of the Twentieth-Century Novel.  Good books—and there were many written during the past hundred years—can entertain, just as they can give us pleasure. But great ones have the ‘power to breach,' that is, to upset and provoke us, shattering our illusions about the world.  On this episode, Frank speaks with Commonweal contributor and literary critic Tony Domestic about authors like Dostoevsy, Proust, and Virginia Woolf, among others. For further reading: Fiction by Alice McDermott Mollie Wilson O'Reilly on George Eliot's double life  Tony Domestico's latest books column 

George Eliot, 1819 – 1880. 

The stories we tell ourselves shape the lives we live. If you've ever felt stuck in who you've been, remember—you're the author, not just the character. Your past may have built you, but it doesn't have to confine you. You can rewrite your narrative at any moment.George Eliot once said, "It's never too late to be who you might have been." You are not bound by old habits, past mistakes, or outdated beliefs. The pen is in your hands. So, what story do you want to tell next?More from Eddie Pinero:Monday Motivation Newsletter: https://www.eddiepinero.com/newsletterInstagram - @your_world_within and @IamEddiePineroTikTok - your_world_withinFacebook - https://www.facebook.com/YourworldwithinTwitter - https://www.twitter.com/IamEddiePineroBusiness Inquiries - http://www.yourworldwithin.com/contact#liveinspired #yourworldwithin #motivation

A richly woven tapestry of ambition, love, and social change in a provincial English town by George Eliot

Daily QuoteThe days were short, the nights were long, and the cold was intense. The world seemed to have shrunk into a small, icy prison, where every step was an effort and every breath a struggle. (George Eliot)Poem of the DayA Prayer in SpringRobert FrostBeauty of Words雪梁实秋

In The Essence of Christianity (1841) Feuerbach works through the theological crisis of his age to articulate the central, radical idea of 19th-century atheism: that the religion of God is really the religion of humanity. In this episode, Jonathan and James discuss the ways in which the book applies this thought to various aspects of Christian doctrine, from sexual relations to the Trinity, and consider why Feuerbach would never have described himself as an atheist. They also look at George Eliot's remarkable translation of the work, published only thirteen years after the original, which not only ensured Feuerbach's influence in the Anglophone world but invented a new philosophical vocabulary in English for German thought.Non-subscribers will only hear an extract from this episode. To listen to the full episode, and all our other Close Readings series, subscribe:Directly in Apple Podcasts: https://lrb.me/applecrcipIn other podcast apps: https://lrb.me/closereadingscipFurther reading in the LRB:James Wood: What next?https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v33/n08/james-wood/what-s-nextTerry Eagleton: George Eliothttps://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v17/n18/terry-eagleton/biogspeak Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Relax and fall asleep tonight to the continuation of this classic story. Support the podcast and enjoy ad-free and bonus episodes. Try FREE for 7 days on Apple Podcasts. For other podcast platforms go to https://justsleeppodcast.com/supportOr, you can support with a one time donation at buymeacoffee.com/justsleeppodIf you like this episode, please remember to follow on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or your favourite podcast app. Also, share with any family or friends that might have trouble drifting off.Goodnight! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

How to Sleep at Night is a tender and timely novel telling a heartfelt story about marriage, love and politics. Harris joined us live to talk about writing about people who are challenging their values, how her characters surprised her, the effects of being a journalist on pacing and more with Miwa Messer, host of Poured Over. This episode of Poured Over was hosted by Miwa Messer and mixed by Harry Liang.                     New episodes land Tuesdays and Thursdays (with occasional Saturdays) here and on your favorite podcast app. Featured Books (Episode): How to Sleep at Night by Elizabeth Harris Fates and Furies by Lauren Groff Middlemarch by George Eliot

Send us a textIf you're drawn to the hefty tomes of Victorian authors Anthony Trollope and George Eliot, we can pretty much guarantee you'll enjoy this week's novel, Hester, as much as we did. Margaret Oliphant is said to have been one of Queen Victoria's favorite novelists, and she counted J.M. Barrie and Robert Louis Stevenson among her many fans. Joining us to discuss Hester is New York Times columnist and pediatrician Dr. Perri Klass. Discussed in this episode: Hester by Margaret OliphantDr. Perri KlassGeorge EliotAnthony TrollopeMiddlemarch by George EliotBlackwoods MagazineThe Brontes Henry JamesThe Best Medicine by Perri KlassCharles DickensPride and Prejudice by Jane AustenDorothea BrookeThe Chronicles of Barsetshire by Anthony TrollopeThe Chronicles of Carlingford by Margaret OliphantReach Out and ReadMiss Marjoriebanks by Margaret OliphantSupport the showFor episodes and show notes, visit: LostLadiesofLit.comDiscuss episodes on our Facebook Forum. Follow us on instagram @lostladiesoflit. Follow Kim on twitter @kaskew. Sign up for our newsletter: LostLadiesofLit.com Email us: Contact — Lost Ladies of Lit Podcast

Welcome to One Bright Book! Join our hosts Rebecca, Frances, and Dorian as they discuss their most anticipated books of 2025 with Rohan Maitzen, English Professor at Dalhousie University, critic, and writer of the Novel Readings blog. For our next episode, we will discuss Mobility by Lydia Keisling. We would love to have you read along with us, and join us for our conversation coming to you in late January. Want to support the show? Visit us at Bookshop.org or click on the links below and buy some books! Books Mentioned: Widening the Skirts of Light: Essays on George Eliot by Rohan Maitzen Frankenstein by Mary Shelley Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte Gliff by Ali Smith The Stone Door by Leonora Carrington Opus Siniestrus by Leonora Carrington Lili Is Crying by Helene Bessette Written on the Dark by Guy Gavriel Kay Radio Treason The Trials of Lord Haw-Haw, the British Voice of Nazi Germany by Rebecca West The Deserters by Mathias Énard, translated from the French by Charlotte Mandell Zone by Mathias Énard, translated from the French by Charlotte Mandell The Annual Banquet of the Gravediggers' Guild by Mathias Énard, translated from the French by Frank Wynne Exophony: Voyages Outside the Moher Tongue by Yoko Tawada, translated from the Japanese by Lisa Hofmann-Kuroda Scattered All Over the Earth by Yoko Tawada, translated from the Japanese by Margaret Mitsutani Paul Celan and the Trans-Tibetan Angel by Yoko Tawada, translated from the Japanese by Susan Bernofsky Makeshift by Sarah Campion The Passenger by Ulrich Alexander Boschwitz, translated from the German by Philip Boehm The Empusium by Olga Tokarczuk, translated from the Polish by Antonia Lloyd-Jones Evvie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes Bibliophobia by Sarah Chihaya Wildcat Dome by Yuko Tsushima, translated from the Japanese by Lisa Hofmann-Kuroda Love in Exile by Shon Faye The Female Eunuch by Germaine Greer So We Died: A Memoir of Life and Death in the Ghetto of Šiauliai, Lithuania by Levi Shalit, translated by Veronica Belling, Ellen Cassedy and Andrew Cassel The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sarah Orne Jewett Sun City by Tove Jansson, translated from the Swedish by Thomas Teal Melville Biography: An Inside Narrative by Hershel Parker Herman Melville: A Biography (Volume 1, 1819-1851) by Hershel Parker Herman Melville: A Biography (Volume 2, 1851-1891) by Hershel Parker Melvill by Rodrigo Fresan, translated from the Spanish by Will Vanderhyden Middlemarch by George Eliot Mobility by Lydia Keisling Further resources and links are available on our website at onebrightbook.com. Browse our bookshelves at Bookshop.org. Comments? Write us at onebrightmail at gmail Find us on Twitter at @pod_bright Frances: @nonsuchbook Dorian: @ds228 Rebecca: @ofbooksandbikes Dorian's blog: https://eigermonchjungfrau.blog/ Rebecca's newsletter: https://readingindie.substack.com/ Our theme music was composed and performed by Owen Maitzen. You can find more of his music here: https://soundcloud.com/omaitzen.

In this episode, we talk about how the backstory of Anne and Wentworth is presented without comedy, and yet is absolutely enjoyable. We then move on to the introduction of Mary, and why she is the way she is, the generational change we see in the Musgrove family, and the very unsympathetic portrayal of Dick Musgrove.The character we discuss is Lady Russell. In the historical section, Ellen talks about social precedence, and for popular culture Harriet has watched the 1972 Spanish television adaptation of Persuasion.Things we mention:General discussion:Janet Todd and Antje Blank [Editors], The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Jane Austen: Persuasion (2006)George Eliot, Middlemarch(1872)Maria Edgeworth, The Good French Governess (1801)Charlotte M. Yonge, The Daisy Chain (1856)Ethel Turner, Seven Little Australians(1894)Historical discussion:Anthony Powell, The Acceptance World (1955)The Right Hon. the Countess of *******, Mixing in Society: A Complete Manual of Manners (1870)Debrett's Tables of PrecedencePopular culture discussion:TVE, Novela: Persuasión (1972) – starring Maite Blasco and Juan DiegoWatch on YouTube: PlaylistCreative commons music used:Extract from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Sonata No. 12 in F Major, ii. Adagio.Extract from Joseph Haydn, Piano Sonata No. 38. Performance by Ivan Ilić, recorded in Manchester in December, 2006. File originally from IMSLP.Extract from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Sonata No. 13 in B-Flat Major, iii. Allegretto Grazioso. File originally from Musopen.Extract from George Frideric Handel, Suite I, No. 2 in F Major, ii. Allegro. File originally from Musopen.Extract from Christoph Willibald Gluck, Orfeo ed Euridice. File from IMSLP.Extract from Ludwig van Beethoven, Piano Sonata No. 28 in A major. File originally from Musopen.

Fall asleep tonight to the opening chapters of Middlemarch by George Eliot. We released a shorter episode early in 2022 but I wanted to revisit the book. In this episode, we are introduced to highly religious Dorothea, her sister Celia, and their prospective suitors. Support the podcast and enjoy ad-free and bonus episodes. Try FREE for 7 days on Apple Podcasts. For other podcast platforms go to https://justsleeppodcast.com/supportOr, you can support with a one time donation at buymeacoffee.com/justsleeppodIf you like this episode, please remember to follow on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or your favourite podcast app. Also, share with any family or friends that might have trouble drifting off.Goodnight! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Dealing with reality can be difficult enough, but when the nature of that reality is completely overturned - as it is in a case like the climate crisis - we're left with a feeling of intense unease. What does this mean for us? How can we absorb a revelation that threatens to undermine everything we believe about ourselves and our place in the universe? In this episode, Jacke talks to Allen MacDuffie about his new book Climate of Denial: Darwin, Climate Change, and the Literature of the Long Nineteenth Century, which examines how writers like George Eliot and H.G. Wells dealt with a post-Darwinian world, and asks whether those examples might help readers cope with today's cataclysmic problems. PLUS novelist Adelle Waldman (Help Wanted) stops by to discuss her choice for the last book she will ever read. Enjoy this episode? You might enjoy some of these from our archive: Upton Sinclair and the Muckraking Novelist (with Adelle Waldman) George Eliot 330 Middlemarch (with Yang Huang) Help support the show at patreon.com/literature or historyofliterature.com/donate. The History of Literature Podcast is a member of Lit Hub Radio and the Podglomerate Network. Learn more at thepodglomerate.com/historyofliterature. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for September 8, 2024 is: memento • muh-MEN-toh • noun Memento is a synonym of souvenir; it refers to something that is kept as a reminder of a person, place, or thing. // The box on the shelf in her closet is filled with mementos of her basketball career—awards, newspaper clippings, team photographs, and her old uniform. See the entry > Examples: “In the months after the Eagles trial was tossed out, the music memorabilia world returned to business. And if you think we're just talking boomer items, think again. As the Prince guitar shows, a new generation had already begun prepping to lay out sizable cash for mementos of their youth. Those patched Cobain jeans went for $412,750. An anonymous buyer (rumored to be Jay-Z, whose team would not confirm) shelled out nearly $600,000 for a plastic crown the Notorious B.I.G. wore for a photo...” — David Browne, Rolling Stone, 7 June 2024 Did you know? In Latin, memento is the imperative form (meaning it is used as a command) of meminisse, a verb that means “to remember.” (The term memento mori, which refers to a reminder of mortality, translates literally as “remember that you must die,” for example). The history of memento makes it clear where its spelling came from, but because a memento often helps one remember a particular moment, people occasionally spell the term momento. This is typically considered a misspelling, but it appears often enough in edited prose (including the work of such esteemed authors as George Eliot and Dylan Thomas) to have been entered in most dictionaries as an acceptable variant spelling.

As part of its recent "100 Best Books of the 21st Century" project, The New York Times Book Review is interviewing some of the authors whose books appeared on the list. This week, Min Jin Lee joins host Gilbert Cruz to discuss her novel, as well as the book she's read the most times — George Eliot's "Middlemarch."“I'm willing to say it's the best English language novel, period. Without question,” Lee says. “George Eliot is probably the smartest girl in the room ever as a novelist. She really was a great thinker, a great logician, a great empathizer and also a great psychologist. She was all of those things. And she was also political. She understood so many aspects of the human mind and the way we interact with each other. And then above all, I think she has a great heart.”