On 17 July Christopher Nolan’s blockbuster film of The Odyssey finally reaches cinema screens, and on 19 July The London Literary Salon is doing something a little different!
Where Nolan has Matt Damon, Tom Holland, Anne Hathaway, Robert Pattinson and Lupita Nyong’o, our own tribute to The Odyssey features Toby Brothers and Jane Wymark with special guests from the Salon community. No cast of thousands and no CGI, but together we will perform key passages from Homer’s epic in The Odyssey Live! spoken aloud, as Homer intended.
“We’re excited to see what Christopher Nolan has done with this 3,000-year-old tale, but we’re celebrating the origins of The Odyssey as part of an oral tradition, to be spoken live to an audience. That’s what we’re setting out to recreate!”
Toby Brothers
Most Salonistas already know that Homer’s epics, The Iliad and The Odyssey, are at the core of our collective cultural heritage. These are the original models for how we make sense of our lives through narrative. Even if you have not read the works themselves, if you have seen Star Wars or read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, if you have watched Ridley Scott’s Gladiator or immersed yourself in the world of Harry Potter, you have glimpsed them in the background.
The story of how we define ourselves against our enemies (who turn out to be not so different from ourselves). The story of the struggle to return home (both literally and metaphorically). These are stories that don’t just shape other narratives, but also how we understand ourselves. Three thousand years after creating these works, Homer’s vision still inspires us and clarifies the essence of what it means to be human.
The Odyssey Live! at Theatro Technis will hark back to these origins, offering the experience of seeing and hearing the words spoken aloud, just as the Greeks of Homer’s time would have done. Whether or not you already know the poetry, we aim to bring to life the beauty of the language and highlight themes that are as relevant today as they were in the 8th century BCE.
We will touch on the guest-host relationship, the struggle to reach home, the challenge of the soldier’s return, the difference between the inner and outer self, the shape of leadership, how we learn from encountering cultures different from our own, the press of the gods against human agency . . . all live issues in 2026!
Join us for our one and only performance of The Odyssey Live! at Camden’s Theatro Technis (Crowndale Road, London NW1 1TT). Tickets are available from the theatre box office with an earlybird booking discount until 30 June!
Portrait of Christopher Marlowe, Corpus Christi College, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons
“The dangerous times and fatal genius of Shakespeare’s greatest rival” is the subtitle of Professor Stephen Greenblatt’s 2025 life of Christopher Marlowe, Dark Renaissance. In her review of Greenblatt’s book, Professor Emma Smith declares that “Marlowe’s life is chock-full of under-evidenced incidents that are charged with a thrilling imaginative energy. He emerges from fragmentary records already fully formed: a spy, a double agent, an atheist, a sodomite.” I am offering a single session ‘LitSalon Short’ to review the highlights of Marlowe’s brief, exhilarating and controversial life (1564-1593), before considering how art reflects life in the dramatist’s dramatic and poetical works.
On stage, Marlowe’s characters – Tamburlaine, Barabas, Faustus – demonstrate boundless self-confidence as they over-reach human, moral and physical boundaries, attempting to subordinate the natural order and the cosmos itself to their individual will. The language they use is filled with electrifying energy, breath-taking sonorities and dazzling verbal imagery.
Drawing on the depth of his rich classical education (the aesthetics and metamorphoses of Ovid, extended and elaborate similes à la Homer, the passion and brutality of Senecan tragedy, and the power of the persuasive oratory of Cicero and Demosthenes), Marlowe’s literary works also abound in the fruit of the humanist learning of his time, not least Ortelius’ influential atlas, Theatrum Orbis Terrarum (1570), consulted to provide geographic precision and exotic, ravishing naming of places.
In the theatre, Marlowe pioneered what Ben Jonson called “Marlowe’s Mighty Line”: unrhymed iambic pentameter (blank verse). In launching an assault on his predecessors and their “jiggling veins of rhyming mother wits”, he provided the standard dramatic literary form that was to be adopted and developed by Shakespeare and other later playwrights.
In the LitSalon Short we will focus on the two parts of Marlowe’s first great masterpiece, Tamburlaine the Great, using these plays to illustrate his linguistic pyrotechnics and literary genius.
Each Spring, as new leaves unfurl and blossom bursts, the Salon emerges from indoor hibernation to read Virginia Woolf in Alfriston, a village in the heart of the author’s beloved Sussex countryside. Close to both the country home Woolf shared with her husband Leonard until her tragic death, and Charleston, the rural base of the Bloomsbury group, where better to read this extraordinary author’s work?
In 2026 we mark the centenary of the period when Woolf began to immerse herself in life writing. Having tested her new narrative form in Jacob’s Room (1922) and moved on to the more successful Mrs Dalloway (1925), she began to consider how her work might overlap with the genre of the elegy, a phase of experimentation that culminated in the fictional representation of her parents in To the Lighthouse (1927), followed by the brisk and daring Orlando (1928), a work that deliberately ripped at the seams of the biographical form.
After exploring the limits of the gendered human life, Woolf progressed to Flush: A Biography (1933), a sensitive portrayal of canine existence that roots itself in the non-human world. This humorous and occasionally dark portrayal of Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s dog inverts the hierarchy of importance in which famous poets are purportedly more important than their pets.
Woolf continued in this irreverent vein by completing her only play, Freshwater, in 1935, a work designed to be performed for and by her immediate family, which revels in satirising her maternal ancestors and their famous friends. Throughout the play, Woolf affectionately thumbs her nose at the previous generation while also exploring how attitudes towards creativity and artistic endeavour shift over time.
So, our band of bold literary adventurers arrived in Alfriston from points all over the UK and North America to gather at The Lodge in the Wingrove House Hotel. Here we could gaze out (and, between sessions, wander) on Alfriston Green and out into the South Downs. Over the course of four days, we delved deeply into these two works by Woolf – neither considered amongst her legacy texts – and found great riches there.
I always grow anxious before a travel study takes off. Will each participant find their footing in the text and within the group, will we discover new territory? By now I should know that anxiety is part of the journey, and then – together – we are able to soar.
This study included elements of drama and visual art, beautifully facilitated by our resident creative consultant Janet. To ask a group of adults to create masks, don beards, capes, scarves and porpoises, and then to perform what is already an absurd play, requires an unusually game spirit. Luckily, we had an unusually game group! Each of these creative events expands our understanding of the core texts, allowing us access from a new and different direction. The play Freshwater had not become vivid for me until I watched our group perform it, and it was so damn funny! The resistance performed by the actor Ellen Terry in seeking to escape her marriage and the rigid gender enclosures and conventions of her time – yearning to swim, donning trousers, taking a younger lover – was playfully but emphatically subversive.
We found some undercover actors in the group and, in our reflections after entering the play, we gained a greater understanding of Woolf’s complex relationship with the Victorian Age and her ancestors and inspirations. Sharon Bylenga’s presentation on the Pattle Sisters, inspired by the current exhibition at the Watts Gallery, expanded our knowledge of this epoch and its unexpected creative innovators – unexpected because history too easily simplifies and forgets the narrative of an age.
Our reflections on Freshwater also opened up our understanding of Flush through the theme of liberation. Flush and Ellen are both portrayed as captive figures: captured in relationships that are meant to be defined by love. Flush yielded much more on close examination, Woolf subtly integrates a critique of impoverishment in London in the mid-1800s through contrasting life experiences and the politics of space. We also get an intimate understanding of the world of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, her invalid state overlapping with larger social enclosures against which she is determined to create art with an expansive perspective, and ultimately to claim agency in life and love. Using the imaginative lens of the sensibility of her dog Flush, we enter the realm of animal understanding, bringing up much for us to consider about sensory perception, a life outside of measured time, the flexibility of an androgynous identity, and the adjustment of desires in response to primary relationships.
What is ‘one Self’? When Flush sees his own image in the mirror, the question raised is how do we know what is real? Flush is portrayed pondering deep questions: is there such a thing as oneself, separate from what others see? He presses closer to Miss Barrett – ‘that was real’ – it makes him feel complete. There is a moment when you knit with another, there is a kind of fullness, when you give up the Self in love.
There was so much more that the discussions – both formal and more relaxed conversations around food and drink – uncovered. Our time with Nash and Cate at the wonderful Much Ado Books in Alfriston was also inspiring and expanding. Nash gave us a glimpse of their vast collection of Book Art which, he explains, ‘is not just sculptures built from books, but pieces of art made with books, for books, inspired by books, art having to do with books.’ Being in the nurturing space of Much Ado Books – feeling a part of the vibrant community of lovers of words and books that Cate and Nash have created – and making our own art there was exquisite. Between the offerings of Nash and Janet’s guidance, each of us found our inner artist and a way to respond in tactile form to our immersion in Flush and Freshwater.
I am acutely aware that our present time is terrifying on a global scale. It seems to celebrate arrogance, ignorance, prejudice and greed. I know it is a privilege to be able to immerse oneself (yes, the self again!) in a beautiful place, in the company of hungry minds, to contemplate the work of a great artist. I also know that we need to feed hope within ourselves to remain actively engaged and resistant to tyranny. From these journeys we gain a greater understanding of both the possibilities and the failings of human endeavours, and we find models of resistance as we try to imagine ourselves into the better world we hope for.
All photographs courtesy of and copyright Janet Minichiello, 2026.
For this, our fourth year of offering Salon studies in Alfriston, Karina and I have chosen Between the Acts as the basis of our second four-day long weekend spent in the East Sussex countryside – near Woolf’s beloved Monk’s House and Vanessa Bell’s Charleston – which offers the luxury of full immersion in a complex and lush book with a dynamic group of fellow explorers.
In this book, Virginia Woolf’s lyric prose and gorgeous vision combine to consider the sense of exhaustion that punctuated the Modernist period leading up to the Second World War. Edward Mendelson describes the book: “Everything comes to an end in Between the Acts, and then, as the book itself comes to an end, something unknowable begins.” The book includes a pageant composed of imaginary episodes from 1000 years of English history, and a close examination of the intricacies of village life in pre-war England. As always, it is Woolf’s penetrating consideration of intimate relationships and the places where language fails—but something else transcends—that lift this work from “the doom of sudden death hanging over us” as one of her characters describes.
Our sessions are conducted in the Lodge at the Wingrove House Hotel, a beautiful space in which to delve into the intricacies of language and ideas, with Alfriston Green in the background beckoning us outside. Might we create our own Pageant using Miss La Trobe’s script? We might! And we have on hand the brilliant Janet Minichiello as our creative project coordinator; Janet is working on a Book Art Project with local bookshop Much Ado Books that will give participants an opportunity to create a material response to the text.
In addition to exploring Woolf’s writing, there are opportunities for early morning dips in the sea at Eastbourne, walking to the beautiful Berwick Church (which features Vanessa’s murals), and a trip to either Monk’s House or Charleston. Wingrove House offers stylish and comfortable accommodation with a grand breakfast spread that prepares us for each day of discussions, reading, discoveries and adventures. There are a few places remaining for this study, do join us!
N.B. Our first Alfriston study focuses on Flush, one of Woolf’s more playful creations that voices the relationship between a spaniel and his owner, Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Combined with a reading of Woolf’s satirical play Freshwater, this four-day weekend (9-12 April) will also include a creative project and local adventures, as well as an invigorated discussion about the dynamic between animals and humans. We have a place reserved for the resident London Literary Salon spaniel (pictured above), who also plans to be present for the study.
Click on the links below for full information on the studies in Alfriston:
Within the Salon community we count many devotees of the writing of Virginia Woolf and every year we offer a number of studies focusing on her work, some online and others based in some of the places she loved. This autumn we will run the seventh in our series of Virginia Woolf travel studies in the Cornish seaside town and fishing port of St Ives, where we will read two of her most celebrated novels: To the Lighthouse and The Waves.
Although these books are fiction, each one – as well as a third novel, Jacob’s Room – features vivid descriptions of the gorgeous views across St Ives Bay from Talland House, the childhood summer home for Woolf (then Virginia Stephen) and her family, looking out to Godrevy Lighthouse. The house was of enormous importance to Woolf, acknowledged worldwide as one of the foremost writers of the twentieth century, who wrote about it repeatedly in her memoirs, diaries and novels. According to her biographer, Hermione Lee, “Happiness is always measured for her against the memory of being a child in that house.”
Now the views of the sweeping seascape from the privately owned Grade II listed Talland House are under threat from construction of a block of twelve flats on a site below its grounds. Planning permission for the development was granted in 2009, but building works have only begun in recent weeks and the developers are now seeking permission from Cornwall Council to increase the height of the building, claiming that the overall scale and mass will remain “broadly the same”. As the council considers the application they face fierce opposition from Woolf enthusiasts – readers, writers and cultural historians – locally, nationally and internationally, many of whom have left passionate objections on Cornwall’s planning portal.
Opposition to the development is spearheaded by locally based heritage horticulturalist Polly Carter, who many Salon participants will know from her generous and knowledgeable contributions to our studies in Cornwall. Polly, who is developing the gardens at Talland House with plantings referenced in Woolf’s writings, is working alongside the Virginia Woolf Society of Great Britain to mobilise Woolf fans worldwide, including prominent scholars, authors and artists, to join local residents in campaigning to reject the developer’s current proposal and revoke the original planning permission.
Talland House and its history, together with Tate St Ives and the Hepworth Sculpture Garden form a significant part of Cornwall’s cultural heritage, attracting visitors from around the world. Best-selling local author Patrick Gale described the development as a “preposterous piece of cultural vandalism”, while our own Toby Brothers observes “the site for this proposed development is not only a national treasure; it is a global one. Thousands of people visit Talland House and its surroundings every year to experience the place where Virginia Woolf spent her youth and which inspired one of the most classical works of the twentieth century. This project would destroy an important part of British – and world – heritage. A building project of this nature benefits only a few – namely the owners – and disadvantages all who are drawn to it from near and far.”
According to the Virginia Woolf Society of Great Britain “The association of Woolf with Talland House is one of the UK’s major literary/house associations, akin to Charles Dickens with Doughty Street and similarly visited by hundreds of tourists. It would be cultural vandalism to destroy the view of Godrevy Lighthouse from Talland House.”
You can view comments about the development proposals and, if you feel strongly about this, add your own comment on the Cornwall Council Planning Portal (you will need to give a UK postcode).
If you wish to comment from outside the UK you can click on the same Cornwall Council Planning Portal link and use the postcode for Talland House: TR26 2EH
I am very sad to announce that Wendy Steavenson — valued Salonista and graceful hostess of some memorable Salon gatherings — died peacefully in her sleep just after Christmas. Those who knew Wendy, or who did studies with her, will remember her as a strong voice of wit, intelligence and humour. She was also incredibly generous — with her words, her appreciation, her offerings to the Salon community — and her passion for art was reflected in her work in the Salon.
Last year, Wendy joined The Sound and Fury Salon facilitated by myself and John Allemand. She threw herself into the challenging text, in spite of her struggles with both the narrative experimentation and Faulkner’s purpose. In one of her emphatic emails she asked me: ‘Why would he choose to write about such terrible people?’ I pushed back, trying to explain the importance of understanding the evil nature of the human spirit as well as the good, arguing for Faulkner’s deep compassion for all people in the face of the tragedy of American Southern culture. I think Wendy’s question speaks to her desire always to see the best in people, and her resistance to the ugly things that humans can do to each other.
I will miss her. I will miss her courage to speak up when she did not understand or accept a premise we were floating. I will miss her advocacy for others, and her energy in bringing everyone along to the beautiful things in the world.
Appreciation from fellow Salonistas:
‘I made a brilliant friend at a stage in life when we don’t usually make them. Pure happenstance, which is a wonderful part of the Salon. Yes, Wendy was demanding and outspoken, but she was incredibly generous and a great hostess with enormous style. We were from different worlds but had many things in common — chicken soup being one of them! Wendy was a superlative cook. Everything was joyous and perfect. She made a party for the Proust group and gave everyone gift-wrapped madeleines. Only Wendy would have come up with that! She was so courageous over serious illness and surgery a couple of years ago. Always up for lunch with me and Diana, always beautifully dressed “Armani, decades old” she said once! Edwin got on so well with Wendy and he too is very sad to think we won’t see her again.
Wendy spoke her mind. Not always agreeably, but we admired her consistency and occasional delicious gossip. Last year our older son was incredibly ill. Wendy phoned constantly to see how he was doing (miraculously, twelve months on he is fabulous again, but it was a very tough and long battle). We will miss her style, wit, intelligence and irrepressible get up and go when it came to celebrating and having fun. She was absolutely unique and I feel it was a privilege to know her. She was also so proud of her brilliant daughter Wendell, a prize-winning journalist and writer to whom we feel close and who will continue to help us remember her extraordinary mother.’
Sue Fox
‘Wendy and I sang Gershwin songs together and enjoyed happy lunches for more than twenty years.
We supported and comforted each other throughout the last months of the lives of our dear husbands: David and Peter.
I am happy she knew you, darling Toby and got to know Proust because of you.
She endured the most dreadful illness without complaint and with huge courage.
Shakespeare’s Hamlet so dominates the English Renaissance revenge tragedy tradition that most modern audiences struggle even to name another revenge drama, especially by a different playwright of the same era. Yet, Thomas Kyd’s The Spanish Tragedy and John Marston’s Antonio’s Revenge also form crucial parts of the same tradition, showing how playwrights of the late Elizabethan period wrestled with questions of justice and morality as they expanded the genre’s conventions. All three also engage in delightful metatheatrical banter, sometimes with each other and sometimes with a possibly lost play now called the Ur-Hamlet, which scholars would give much to unearth.
At the London Literary Salon, we have frequently offered studies of Hamlet, and last year we also offered a study of The Spanish Tragedy. In January 2026, we are offering John Marston’s Antonio’s Revenge, which I like to call ‘Hamlet on hallucinogens and performed by children’ (in this case, a theatrical troupe called The Children of Paul’s). I have also described it as ‘Hamlet like you have never seen it before’, and comparing Hamlet with Antonio’s Revenge reveals strong resonances in structure and theme, but also key differences in tone and philosophical depth. These differences illuminate both Shakespeare’s and Marston’s distinct styles, while also showcasing their shared anxieties of the theatrical world.
As revenge tragedies, Hamlet and Antonio’s Revenge have striking similarities. For instance, each begins with the death of a father and a son’s obligation to avenge that death. In both plays, the ghost of the murdered man returns to demand vengeance: Hamlet’s father’s ghost calls upon him to “revenge his foul and most unnatural murder,” just as the ghost of Andrugio in Marston’s play commands Antonio to “revenge thy father.”
But the differences between the plays are more fascinating than their likenesses. Antonio is a muscular revenger, one who is profoundly physical and unapologetically outraged at his father’s fate. Action drives this play from the outset. It opens on the grotesque and sensational, and it stays there. Antonio’s path is marked by theatrical excess, and disguises, madmen, poisoned swords and grisly murders abound. Where Hamlet is haunted by doubt, Antonio is consumed by fury. His vengeance is brutal and unrestrained, leaving little room for reflection.
The similarities and differences in language are equally fascinating. Shakespeare’s verse is psychologically rich, moving between the colloquial and the poetic to reveal subtle layers of emotion. Marston’s language is darker, harsher, and more ornate, brimming with cynicism. His characters seem to speak in and represent moral absolutes, while Shakespeare’s figures inhabit complexities and nuance. Marston’s world is a nightmare of vice and corruption; Shakespeare’s Denmark is a decaying court that still contains the possibility of meaning.
Reading plays by his contemporaries allows us to see Shakespeare not as a solitary genius but as part of a lively, competitive and collaborative theatrical culture. His plays contribute to a vibrant ecosystem of dramatists – Kyd, Marlowe, Jonson, Marston, Webster, and so on – all interrogating the same fascinating impulses of a golden age.
As we climbed the grand staircase in the Opera Garnier, Melanie turned to me and said, “Can’t you just see the ball gowns and hear silk gliding over marble?” Yes — for a moment we were swept back to Proust’s Belle Epoque . . .
L’escalier de l’opera Garnier, painting by Louis Béroud, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; photograph by Benh LIEU SONG, CC BY-SA 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons; photograph of ceiling by Melanie Simons
“When good Americans die they go to Paris,” Oscar Wilde quipped. I guess I’ve been good, because I just enjoyed a week in Paris with a convivial group of salonistas: a week of absorbing beauty, of learning and discovery, of good company and delicious food. Whether it was standing in front of Baudelaire’s grave while Olivier recited “Correspondences” or relaxing in the actual bed where Proust wrote À la recherche du temps perdu (Okay, I couldn’t get onto the bed, but I was less than five feet away), it felt like a journey back to another era.
Proust and 19th-Century French art — this study affirmed the London Literary Salon’s tradition of literary travel and took us in a new direction: museum visits and discussions of painting and sculpture.
As we gathered around four versions of Monet’s Rouen Cathedral and reflected on the colours, sense of focus, and contrast between light and shade, we began to enter (just a little way) into the artistic process, and found parallels to Proust’s writing.
Similarly, we looked at three paintings of ballet dancers by Degas — one early, one middle, and one late in his career — enabling us to follow his artistic path and see changes in his use of line, colour, and composition.
Degas paintings of ballet dancers from the Musée d’Orsay collection: left to right 1874, 1886, 1890
And finally, in the Rodin Museum we compared the powerful sculptures of Rodin and Claudel, each with a unique and expressive vision.
The beautiful art we saw in Paris, the variety of styles and artistic visions we experienced in the Louvre and Musee d’Orsay are illuminated by Proust when he writes:
“for style for the writer no less than colour for the painter is a question not of technique but of vision . . . Thanks to art, instead of seeing one world only, our own, we see that world multiply itself and we have at our disposal as many worlds as there are original artists, worlds more different one from the other than those which revolve in infinite space, worlds which, centuries after the extinction of the fire from which their light first emanated, whether it is called Rembrandt or Vermeer, send us still each one its special radiance.”
Ahead of the study I produced Padlet presentations of the art of Paris and the period to share with participants and, once we were there, I asked everyone to pick a favourite artwork we had seen. I then showed the paintings on a digital projector in our hotel as each person shared with the group what they found inspiring. It was a joy for me to see moments of discovery, to see people connect with art emotionally and intellectually. A wonderful aspect of the Salon community is how people bring their ideas and life experiences to the table to share with the group. As an example, David gave a presentation on Schopenhauer’s philosophy and how it connects with Proust’s writing that added extra depth to our discussions.
In addition to the inspiring art, there was tasty food and good company: we had memorable meals and conversations, and the beginnings of new friendships. Gargouille and Brigitte restaurants were highlights for me. At Gargouille we had our own private room, where we were served multiple courses of small plates. I’d describe the food as modern Mediterranean, and I enjoyed the variety of spices and herbs. Toby reunited with a few of the original members of the Paris Salon, who shared with us their memories of literary discussions and told us what it was like to live in Paris full time. Brigitte is a traditional French bistro with a lovely old wooden bar and wood-panelled walls; the quality of food and service was high, and we enjoyed their catch of the day and more than a few glasses of wine. Our museum lunches were also memorable, from the cafe beneath the enormous clock in the Orsay, to Rodin’s garden, to the Louvre’s Café Mollien. Although, to be honest, after wandering endless corridors in the Louvre, any refreshment would have been welcome.
We were mostly fortunate with weather and strolled through Paris’s green spaces enjoying their sculptures and flowers. We visited Parc Monceau, the Tuileries, and walked along the Seine to the restored Notre Dame Cathedral and Shakespeare and Co bookstore. I return to Wilde’s observation: Paris is a bit like heaven, at least for an American like me.
Sean Forester and Salonista Denise Heebink in the restaurant at the Musée d’Orsay
When W. G. Sebald died in 2001 his status as the pre-eminent European author of his generation was at its height. For Susan Sontag, he represented rare proof that ‘literary greatness is still possible’, and he was widely tipped for the Nobel Prize. Part of his appeal was that, appearing at the end of the 20th century, his prose fictions memorialised the victims of that century and helped us to understand the impact of its horrors and vicissitudes.
A quarter of a century on, why read – or re-read – Sebald today? There has been an increasing othering of people in the current political and social climate around refugees and asylum seekers. As Rowan Williams wrote in a recent Guardian piece, ‘To speak as though these people are anything other than ordinary is to reinforce the violence they have already experienced, the refusal to see them humanly.’ Sebald can help us find the antidote to this lack of understanding and humanity. In a different context, but one with universal applications, Sebald sought an empathic connection with the victims of 20th century history, the displaced and the deracinated. His unique literary project found new ways to establish a personal connection – through his listening narrator-figure, his ‘bricolage’-like combination of multiple sources, his haunting use of photographs, and his determination to let people speak for themselves. As a member of the generation of Germans who grew up in the shadow of World War II, Sebald’s key insight came when he came face to face with his first Jewish victim of the Holocaust in the 1960s, which he later expressed as Truth can only really be grasped through the encounter with real individual persons. Sebald found ways to stage this encounter in literature of profound beauty and insight.
Join us in a reading of The Emigrants (1993) this autumn to explore Sebald’s achievement in depth.
At the Salon we are huge admirers of James Joyce. For a long time we have featured at least one study of Ulysses every year, as well as – at various times – explorations of the arguably more accessible Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Dubliners, as well as the often bafflingly inventive Finnegan’s Wake. In all of these works Joyce shows us why he is so widely regarded as one of the most brilliant and influential writers of the twentieth (or any) century.
In January 2026 Toby will again lead a group of keen readers through the twenty-one meetings that follow Leopold Bloom’s Odyssean progress through Joyce’s native city of Dublin towards its concluding episode: Molly Bloom’s erotic and heartfelt soliloquy that touches on love, sex, marriage, desire, loss and so much more . . . Tackling Ulysses alone can seem like hard work, many stumble and fall in the early pages, but reading it as part of an engaged and curious group makes it so much easier and, believe it or not, great fun (Joyce IS a funny writer). As one Salonista explains: “Joining the Ulysses salon was one of the best things I have ever done. This was a book I had wanted to read for years but never got past the first section . . . Toby so skilfully guided us through it, her knowledge of the text seemingly inexhaustible, that with her warmth and generosity and sensitivity she got everyone involved and the satisfaction of participating in the salon and in getting an understanding of this marvellous work was immense.“
This autumn, as a prelude to reading Ulysses, we are offering a study focusing on the brilliantly illuminating short stories in Dubliners. The fifteen stories in the collection, first published in 1914, remain fresh and vivid more than a hundred years later. They serve as a seductive gateway for readers new to Joyce’s writing: some of the characters and much of the atmosphere portrayed reappear in Ulysses, albeit realised in a completely different and innovative literary style. As the title implies, the stories are particular to a time and place, yet in our very different twenty-first century world the characters – their emotions, the experiences hopes and disappointments that shape them – are universally recognisable as human, evoked by a humane and clear-eyed writer of genius.
Our next Dublinersstudy will be led by Karina Jakubowicz, who many Salon regulars will know best for her expertise on Virginia Woolf (she is, amongst other things, creator of both The Virginia Woolf Podcast for Literature Cambridge and the Woolf in the World Substack). As a graduate of Trinity College Dublin with a particular interest in modernism and modernist representations of space and place, Karina is ideally placed to introduce this extraordinary work.
Dubliners, with eight weekly two-hour sessions, runs from 16 September – 4 November 2025.
Ulysses, twenty-one two-hour meetings, will run from 13 January – 16 June 2026.