The image of the Lady of Shalott sat in a boat, floating down the river to her death, famously captured the pre-Raphaelite imagination, successfully ticking all their boxes with Arthurian legend, the natural world and a mysterious, ethereal woman at the centre of the action. Personally, I adore ‘The Lady of Shalott’ for its fascinating, complex and multi-layered web of imagery and symbolism, that is just as bewitching today as it was to readers in the 1800s.
Read MoreThis was my fourth year attending the Bristol Poetry Institute’s Annual Reading. Normally, we would be gathered in the great hall of the Wills Memorial Building and, upon arriving barely on time, I would be sat in a row towards the back of the hall, rummaging around my rucksack for my glasses. This year, I was sat at my desk staring at a Crowdcast on my laptop with Claudia Rankine on my screen.
Read MoreEnara gazed out of the living room window. Already the walls of her house had started to close in on her. Usually the sight of an empty street greeted her from the window. The languid longevity of lockdown had locked away her freedom. Her planned holiday with her friends. Cancelled. The many barbecues she would have attended. Cancelled. Her birthday party. Cancelled.
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