This novel's plot, if one may speak of a plot, appears to have been hatched, if one may speak of something not an egg being hatched, at Oxford. The plotters, who have unlikely names even for plotters, met in Wellington Square, a place I know well. I once drank whiskey in the afternoon there with Jane Minto, as likely a character as any in a city that breeds characters (as any follower of Inspector Morse will know). The plotters, however, drank tea, from a tin teapot, while wearing wellingtons. Making something up is, in general, not that hard; making something up about Kurt Schwitters is, because his life itself was so abundant a collage. I once met a woman in front of one of his portraits: “That's me,” she said, “but I never liked it; nor did my husband; we put it under the bed.” She could have appeared in...
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Book Review| September 01 2022
Common Knowledge (2022) 28 (3): 453–454.
Colin Richmond; Schwitters. Common Knowledge 1 September 2022; 28 (3): 453–454. doi: https://doi.org/10.1215/0961754X-10046655
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