I ought to declare a prejudice straightaway, for Elizabeth Taylor has always left me cold, and that celluloid image so many raved about seemed to me merely a portrait of sullen, boorish, peevish arrogance. In the 1950s she was the apotheosis of Hollywood as glamour, a fitting star for MGM and its high production values, but not a scrapper like Bette Davis or Barbara Stanwyck. She played the studio game, colluded with its press agents and publicity machine, virtually invented the paparazzi, and either initiated or perfected many of the tricks of the image-shaping game that are common currency today.

Feb 2010

Crazy Horse’s Last Stand

Eastern Sage

A Monster of Egotism too Easily Forgiven

What’s the Big Idea?

Ruled by the Waves

An Archer Could Beat the Knight in Armour

The Women’s Studies Course at Boulder

Bought and Sold for British Gold

Landgrabber-in-Chief

Worth Investigation

He was Happy to Be Dissected Mercilessly

Hearts of Darkness

Did He Wash His Hands?

Full of Lollipops

Down & Out in Nagaland

Tribes & Tribulations

Not Enough Selection

The Wisest Fool in Christendom

Film Buff Laid Bare

Write To Reply

Whose Ireland

The Founding Fathers

Time of the Trireme

A Man Between

He’s Tall, He’s Rangy

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