Harold Harris, now dead, originally brought Burgess to Hutchinson for Beard’s Roman Women in about 1975 or 76. Possibly bought from an American publisher. In those days I don’t think Anthony was using a literary agent. My memory of this was that the photographer was very much part of the deal, and that it was […]

Monaco, 6 July 1978: He opened the door of the apartment at the top of the stairs on the top floor in the old sandstone-coloured building, shops on the ground floor, black-iron grilled balconies, 44 Rue Grimaldi. There he was, immediately friendly and easy-going, a swirl of bushy long grayish-brown hair like some mad painter, […]

One of my favourite authors, the delightfully chaotic Anthony Burgess, bought a splendid old house in Lija, the village next to ours. With his lively second wife and their small son, he had now moved to Malta where, like me, he was enjoying the escape from city pressure. But there was one big difference between […]

The fascinating typescript of Burgess’s epic novel. By Andrew Biswell.

A seedy flat and literary revenge. By Andrew Biswell.