(c) Sue Flood
(c) Sue Flood


Honey Poo Poo and the Sad Songs of the Homesick

Depending on how you came across her, Judith Owen could strike you as several different people. Her range of work throughout her career is like a hall of mirrors, each genre reflecting a slightly differently shaped person. Once you spend any time in the Judith Owen hall of mirrors, you soon realise that the singing-songwriting persona appears to be the most accurate image of her, and the clearest distillation of her talent...



James Dickson Innes at MOMA, Y Tabernacl, Machynlleth, until 8 November

Michael Tomlinson enjoys a jewel of an exhibition at MOMA, Machynlleth, on JD Innes, an artist for whom Arenig Fawr in Snowdonia became a leitmotif similar to Hokusai's Mount Fuji


Welsh Short Story Network, Aberystwyth Arts Centre, 15 October

Jacob Oliver reports from the latest showcase of the Welsh Short Story Network this autumn at Aberystwyth Arts Centre


For the Birds, RSPB Ynys-hir Reserve 2–5 October 2014

‘For the Birds’ is a newly devised collaboration between multi-media artists Dark Spark, Esther Tew, Kathy Hinde and Jony Easterby; Ellen Bell saw it at Ynys-hir, Eglwys-fach, Ceredigion, last week, and found it a joyful experience.

NEW Multimedia Content

Ben Richmond talks to Heini Gruffudd about his most recent book, a family memoir, A Haven for Hitler. Exclusively for subscribers, Ben's interview for New Welsh Review with Wiliam Owen Roberts is available log in here to access. He also speaks to Diarmait Mac Giolla Chriost, the author of Welsh Writing, Political Action & Incarceration, about Welsh-language prison literature. Plus: check out our late summer podcast plus editor Gwen Davies presents the highlights from the autumn issue highlights here.


The Brethren

The legacy of Flaubert’s perfectionism and attention to detail is present in this well-researched 1977 French historical novel by Robert Merle set in the thirteenth century more...




I asked everyone what I should say in this piece. My mother told me I shouldn’t write about myself at all, but the time, the place, the culture. It sounded like a good plan for avoiding vanity but I can’t pretend it doesn’t rankle. These things, they’re my material: the time, the place, the culture, and my experiences of them, which I couldn’t extricate anyway. So memoir... not a little like masturbation. Here goes another kid. more...

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