It-girl literary heroines are all cannibals now
There is more. Lucy Rose's bestseller The Lamb, published earlier in 2025, is a misery lit-adjacent tale of childhood abuse with a twist: the young protagonist must come to terms with her mother's taste for lost hikers. Catherine Dang's What Hunger, out later this year, promises to '[follow] the daughter of Vietnamese immigrants… as she grapples with the weight of generational trauma while navigating the violent power of teenage girlhood.' This violent power comes, as the reader may guess, with 'an insatiable hunger for raw meat.' And in the Young Adult sphere there is Maika and Maritza Moulite's 2025 novel The Summer I Ate the Rich, which uses its Haitian-American zombie protagonist to '[scrutinise] the socioeconomic and racial inequity that is the foundation of our society.'
Inequity is the largest constant in this emerging genre. Almost every female literary cannibal resorts to cooking and eating people because of trauma in her past, and in each case the trauma is indexed to a larger political concern. Lucy Rose 'explores how women swallow their anger, desire, and animal instincts.' One of the women in The Lamb has her first brush with cannibalism after she is denied an abortion. 'My body was a stranger,' she says, 'but my father wanted me to bring the baby to term… I gobbled him up in one bite.'
The protagonist of A Certain Hunger has no socio-political 'hook' and little discernible trauma. Instead she is off at us from the first page about the 'class privilege' emanating from the hotel bars where she finds her prey, the nature of femaleness ('as abjectly capitalist as a Big Mac') and for-profit prisons, which have been taken over by 'agribusiness.' 'I'm white and educated,' she writes from jail, 'and these privileges get you as far in the incarcerated world as they do in this one.'
The Eyes Are The Best Part is about the red-hot intersection of race and hereditary trauma. 'Generational trauma' is a 2020s buzzword. Kim gives us long family dinners, beleaguered parents and stories of Japanese occupation; we even get our customary helping of over-mystified etymology. ('In Korean, the word for 'fortune' is palja,' goes one chapter opening, going on to illustrate a concept of 'fortune' basically the same as our own).
Cannibalism is a welcome intrusion. But when our heroine gets down to business we realise her bloodthirsty anger is just another bit of the literary furniture, a convenient 'trope' around which to hang a novel. There is 'rage' and then there is 'female rage' – one of the latest, and also most condescending, literary buzzwords.
Penguin Random House offers an online listicle of books that 'explore the depths of female rage, offering catharsis and understanding in a disturbing world.' Their female characters lash out at colonialism and domestic abuse and the expectations of motherhood; Kim's protagonist Ji-won is only driven to pluck out white men's eyeballs because of constant background racism. We get the picture: women are only allowed their explosive excesses of sex and violence if they have some outside justification to feel particularly angry. Nobody placed the same expectation on Sade, who went about spanking and pontificating as he liked. There are few female fetishists in literature; the entirety of A Certain Hunger, with its qualifications and get-out clauses, proves how difficult it is to murder and eat for the joy of it.
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All of this rage and killing and hunger is difficult to square with the mechanics of the literary world. Female readers have spent years subjected to the waverings of Sally Rooney-style heroines, who are never able to formulate a proportional response to the S&M sex they suffer at the hands of indifferent men. The best answer we have had is in Ottessa Moshfegh's My Year of Rest and Relaxation, the Ur-text of what is now called 'messy girl literature': a young woman, scarred by the death of a parent, simply takes a lot of sleeping pills and watches passively as her life spirals out of control.
So we get cannibalism, which is symbolically ambiguous enough to work as an acceptable stand-in for all other literary sensuality. Some of the most enthusiastic sex writing of our time is actually about eating people. 'I'm whimpering like a dog,' says Monika Kim's eyeball-eating heroine, as she chews on cartilage. 'But I can't help it… I am in ecstasy.' The food writer in A Certain Hunger relishes 'the satisfying heft of the ice pick in my hand, the balletic arc of my arm, the cinematic spurt of blood.' When we get to our final, sensual standoff, we are allowed to forget all the rest of it. Perhaps the real point of our new bloodthirsty heroine is that she isn't plugged in at all.
[See more: Sally Rooney is the conscience of a generation]
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Scottish Sun
28 minutes ago
- Scottish Sun
I just knew one day people would finally get Nick Drake, says legendary producer Joe Boyd
Drake died aged 26 in 1974 from an overdose of antidepressants, never enjoying commercial success in his lifetime, never knowing how much he would be appreciated. TROUBLED SOUL I just knew one day people would finally get Nick Drake, says legendary producer Joe Boyd Click to share on X/Twitter (Opens in new window) Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) 'I REMEMBER the moment I first saw Nick. He was very tall – but kind of apologetically tall.' Legendary producer Joe Boyd is casting his mind back to January 1968, to the day 'very good-looking but very self-effacing' Nick Drake dropped a tape off at his London office. Sign up for Scottish Sun newsletter Sign up 5 Nick Drake died aged 26 in 1974, never enjoying commercial success in his lifetime Credit: Getty - Contributor 'He stooped a bit, like he was trying not to seem as tall as he was. 'It was wintertime and there were ash stains on his overcoat. He handed me the tape and trundled off. 'My first encounter with Nick's music was, most likely, that same evening or possibly the following one.' Boyd, an American who became a central figure in the late Sixties British folk-rock boom, was 25 at the time. Drake was 19. He cut a striking figure — lanky with dark shoulder-length hair framing his boyish features. Through his company, Witchseason Productions, Boyd came to helm stellar albums by Fairport Convention (with Sandy Denny), John Martyn, Shirley Collins and The Incredible String Band. But there was something indefinably mesmerising about those three songs passed to him by the quiet teenager who studied English Literature at Cambridge University. As Boyd switched on his 'little Wollensak reel-to-reel tape recorder', he was captivated by Drake's soft but sure tones, allied to his intricate fingerpicking guitar. 'I think the songs were I Was Made To Love Magic, Time Has Told Me and The Thoughts Of Mary Jane,' he says. 'From the first intro to the first song, I thought, 'Whoa, this is different'.' I'm speaking to Boyd to mark the release of a beautifully curated box set, The Making Of Five Leaves Left, a treasure trove of demos, outtakes and live recordings. Rounding it off is the finished product, Drake's debut album for Chris Blackwell's fabled Island Records pink label. Bob Dylan biopic is an immaculate portrayal of the grumpy singer's rise to fame - shame his women feel like complete unknowns In 2025, the singer's status as one of Britain's most cherished songwriters is assured. A troubled soul, Drake died aged 26 in 1974 from an overdose of antidepressants, never enjoying commercial success in his lifetime, never knowing how much he would be appreciated. But Boyd, now 83, had no doubts about the rare talent that he first encountered in 1968. He picks up the story again: 'Ashley Hutchings, the Fairport Convention bass player, saw Nick playing at The Roundhouse [in Camden Town, North London] and was very impressed. 'He handed me a slip of paper with a phone number on it and said, 'I think you'd better call this guy, he's special'. 'So I called and Nick picked up the phone. I said, 'Do you have a tape I could hear?'. He said, 'Yes'.' Boyd still didn't hold out too much hope, as he explains: 'I was very much a blues and jazz buff. I also liked Indian music. 'White middle-class guys with guitars were never that interesting to me — Bob Dylan being the exception that proves the rule. 5 John Boyd holding The Making Of Five Leaves Left, a treasure trove of demos, outtakes and live recordings 'But Nick was something else. He wasn't really a folk singer at all.' Boyd describes Drake as a 'chansonnier', a French term for a poet singer who performs their own compositions, often drawing on the themes of love and nature. He says: 'I'm always a bit bemused when I go into a record store — one of the few left — and see Nick filed under folk. He's unclassifiable and that's one of the reasons he endures.' To Boyd, Drake's enduring appeal is also helped 'by the fact that he didn't succeed in the Sixties'. 'He never became part of that decade's soundtrack in the way Donovan or [Pentangle guitarist and solo artist] Bert Jansch did. 'So he was cut loose from the moorings of his era, to be grabbed by succeeding generations.' Drake was born on June 19, 1948, in Rangoon, Burma [now Myanmar], to engineer father Rodney and amateur singer mother Molly. His older sister Gabrielle became a successful screen actress. When Nick was three, the family moved to Far Leys, a house at Tanworth-in-Arden, Warks, and it was there that his parents encouraged him to learn piano and compose songs. I'm always a bit bemused when I go into a record store — one of the few left — and see Nick filed under folk. He's unclassifiable and that's one of the reasons he endures. Joe Boyd Having listened to the home recordings of Molly, Boyd gives her much credit for her son's singular approach. He says: 'When you hear the way she shaped her strange chords on the piano and her sense of harmony, it seems that it was reverberating in Nick's mind.' When Drake gave him those three demos, recorded in his room at Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge, Boyd 'called the next day and said, 'Come on in, let's talk'.' During the ensuing meeting, Drake said: 'I'd like to make a record.' He was offered a management, publishing and production contract. Just as importantly, he had found a mentor in Joe Boyd. What you hear on the box set is the musical journey leading up to the release of Five Leaves Left in July 1969. The set was sanctioned by the Estate Of Nick Drake, run on behalf of his sister Gabrielle by Cally Callomon, but only after two remarkable tapes were unearthed. His first session with Boyd at Sound Techniques studio in March 1968 — found on a mono listening reel squirrelled away more than 50 years ago by Beverley Martyn, a singer and the late John Martyn's ex-wife. A full reel recorded at Caius College by Drake's Cambridge acquaintance Paul de Rivaz. It had gathered dust in the bottom of a drawer for decades. Boyd says: 'I have never been a big enthusiast for these endless sets of demos and outtakes — so I was highly sceptical about this project. 'But when my wife and I were sent the files a few months ago, we sat down one evening and listened through all four discs. 'I was tremendously moved by Nick. You can picture the scene of him arriving for the first time at Sound Techniques. 'This is what he's been working for. He's got his record deal and here he is in the studio. I was stunned.' 5 Five Leaves Left was released in 1969 In pristine sound quality, the first disc begins with Boyd saying, 'OK, here we go, whatever it is, take one.' Drake then sings the outtake followed by some of his best-loved songs — Time Has Told Me, Saturday Sun, Day Is Done among them. It's just man and guitar, recorded before musicians such as Pentangle's double bass player Danny Thompson and Fairport Convention's guitarist Richard Thompson (no relation) were drafted in. Boyd continues: 'The trigger for those recordings, that first day in the studio, was wanting our wonderful engineer John Wood to get a feel for Nick's sound. 'Nick was wide awake and on it. He was excited about being in a studio and he wanted to impress.' All these years later, one song in particular caught Boyd's attention — Day Is Done. 'He takes it more slowly than the final version. This gives him time to add more nuance and the singing is so good.' Back then, as Five Leaves Left took shape, Boyd witnessed the sophisticated way Drake employed strings, oboe and flute. Inspired by subtle orchestrations on Leonard Cohen's debut album, Boyd had drafted in arranger Richard Hewson but it didn't work out. 'It was nice, but it wasn't Nick,' he affirms. When Drake suggested his Cambridge friend Robert Kirby, a Baroque music scholar, everything fell into place. Boyd says: 'Nick had already been engaging with Robert about using a string quartet but had been hesitant about putting his ideas forward.' SUBTLE ORCHESTRATIONS The producer also recalls being 'fascinated by the lyrics — the work of a literate guy'. 'I don't want to sound elitist but Nick was well educated. British public school [Marlborough College] and he got into Cambridge. 'Gabrielle told me he didn't like the romantic poets much. But you feel that he's very aware of British poetry history.' This is evident in the first lines of the opening song on Five Leaves Left — 'Time has told me/You're a rare, rare find/A troubled cure for a troubled mind.' 'When I think about Nick, I think about the painting, The Death Of Chatterton,' says Boyd. 'Chatterton was a young romantic British poet who died, I think, by suicide. You see him sprawled out across a bed.' I ask Boyd how aware he was of Drake's struggles with his mental health. 'It's a tricky question because I was aware that he was very shy,' he answers. 'Who knew what was going on with him and girls?' Boyd believes there was a time when Drake was better able to enjoy life's pleasures. 'When you read of his adventures in the south of France and in Morocco, it seems he was more relaxed and joyful. 5 Drake at home with mother Molly and sister Gabrielle 'And when I went up to Cambridge to meet Nick and Robert Kirby before we did the first session, he was in a dorm. 'There were friends walking in and out of the room. There was a lot of life around him.' Boyd says things changed when 'Nick told me he wanted to leave Cambridge and move to London. 'I agreed to give him a monthly stipend to help him survive. He rented a bedsit in Hampstead — you could do that in those days. 'Nick started smoking a lot of hashish and didn't seem to see many people. I definitely noticed a difference. 'He'd been at Marlborough, he'd been at Cambridge and suddenly he's on his own, smoking dope, practising the guitar, going out for a curry, coming back to the guitar some more. He became more and more isolated and closed off'. Boyd describes how Drake found live performance an almost unbearable challenge. He says: 'He had different tunings for every song, which took a long time. He didn't have jokes. So he'd lose his audience and get discouraged.' 'It still haunts me that I left the UK' For Drake's next album, Bryter Layter, recorded in 1970 and released in 1971, Boyd remained in charge of production. Despite all the albums he's worked on, including REM's Fables Of The Reconstruction and Kate and Anna McGarrigle's classic debut, he lists Bryter Layter as a clear favourite. It bears the poetic masterpiece Northern Sky with its heartrending opening line – 'I never felt magic crazy as this.' Boyd says: 'I can drop the needle and relax, knowing that John Wood and I did the best we could.' However, he adds that it still 'haunts me that I left for a job with Warner Bros in California after that. I was very burnt out and didn't appreciate how much Nick may have been affected by my leaving'. Drake responded to Boyd's departure by saying, 'The next record is just for guitar and voice, anyway'. Boyd continues: 'So I said, 'Well, you don't need me any more. You can do that with John Wood'.' When he was sent a test pressing of 1972's stripped-back Pink Moon, he recalls being 'slightly horrified'. 'I thought it would end Nick's chances of commercial success. It's ironic that it now sells more than his other two.' Then, roughly a year after leaving the UK, Boyd got a worried call from Drake's mum. 'Molly said she had urged Nick to see a psychiatrist because he had been struggling,' he says, with sadness, 'and that he had been prescribed antidepressants. 'I know Nick was hesitant to take them. He felt people would judge him as crazy — a typically British response.' Boyd again uses the word 'haunting' when recalling the transatlantic phone call he made to Drake. 'I said, 'There's nothing shameful about taking medicine when you've got a problem'. I know Nick was hesitant to take them [antidepressants]. He felt people would judge him as crazy — a typically British response Joe Boyd 'But I think antidepressant dosages were way higher in those days than they became. 'Doctors didn't appreciate the rollercoaster effect — how you could get to a peak of elation and freedom, then suddenly plunge back into depression. 'Who knows but it might have contributed to the feeling of despair Nick felt the night he took all those extra pills.' 5 Boyd says of Drake: 'He's unclassifiable and that's one of the reasons he endures' Drake died at home in Warwickshire during the early hours of November 25, 1974. As for Boyd, he made a lasting commitment to the singer who had such a profound effect on him. He says: 'When I left, I gave my company to Chris Blackwell because there were more debts than assets — and he agreed to take on the debts. 'But I said, 'I want it written in the contract that you cannot delete Nick Drake. Those records have to stay. 'I just knew that one day people would get him.'
Daily Record
2 hours ago
- Daily Record
BBC Antiques Road Trip expert halts show as deal spirals into chaos
Antiques Road Trip expert Phillip Serrell stumbled all over the shop while trying to secure a deal. Antiques Road Trip expert Phillip Serrell was forced to halt the show when things spiralled into chaos during an episode. The antiques lover was hunting in an antiques shop for the perfect item to take to the final auction, when he spotted an old cigarette advertisement positioned high on the wall. But, as he called seller Dave over to enquire about the price, the dealer wasn't watching where he was heading, which proved to be a costly error in the packed antiques shop. Phil stumbled over an item, leaving Dave utterly stunned. Deciding to use the moment to his advantage, he declared: "Oh, I can feel a claim coming on!" He then called out: "My back, my back!" whilst jokingly attempting to negotiate the price down further. The expert eventually agreed on £55 for the weathered sign, quipping: "It should have a health warning but lets hope it doesn't have a wealth warning." It wasn't the only mishap for him in Dave's establishment, as he struggled to manoeuvre his way around the jam-packed store, reported the Express. He toppled several items as he explored every corner and crevice of the shop. But the awkwardness proved worthwhile as the sign achieved an impressive £10 profit when it went to auction. The cheeky BBC expert sparked excitement among fans recently with a new show proposal. The antique expert, alongside co-star Natasha Raskin-Sharp, has been touring the UK in search of hidden treasures, this time focusing their efforts on Sheffield. Before they began their hunt back in February, Philip made an intriguing suggestion: "I think we need to have the Phil and Tash show." A surprised Natasha responded: "Do you reckon?", she asked: "Are you pitching right now?" Philip confirmed his idea, stating: "Phil and Tash on the road, you heard it here first. " Fans were thrilled by the prospect, with one saying: "Really enjoyed the first week of new series, just to say' Phil and Tash on the road ' is something I would watch happily!" Another chimed in: "The best two ever on the #antiquesroadtrip". In other Antiques Road Show news, a previous guest sadly died, a few years after they had received a life-changing valuation on the series. Back in 2005, a guest on the American version of the show had their life changed when their item was revealed to be of huge value. Antiques expert David Rago met an astonished visitor called Tom, who had brought along an 1880 jug passed down through generations. Tom explained: 'This piece belonged to my grandmother, and when she sold her house, the grandkids and the kids could choose different things. This is the piece that I always wanted, so my name was on this one for a long time.' David proceeded to assess the massive jug at an incredible $65,000 (£48,264) to $85,000 (£63,115) before disclosing what the antique actually fetched at auction. But four years after the life-altering valuation, Tom sadly passed at age 46. Antiques Road Trip is available on watch on BBC iPlayer. Join the Daily Record WhatsApp community! Get the latest news sent straight to your messages by joining our WhatsApp community today. You'll receive daily updates on breaking news as well as the top headlines across Scotland. No one will be able to see who is signed up and no one can send messages except the Daily Record team. All you have to do is click here if you're on mobile, select 'Join Community' and you're in! If you're on a desktop, simply scan the QR code above with your phone and click 'Join Community'. We also treat our community members to special offers, promotions, and adverts from us and our partners. If you don't like our community, you can check out any time you like. To leave our community click on the name at the top of your screen and choose 'exit group'.
Rhyl Journal
4 hours ago
- Rhyl Journal
ITV will continue to make shows such as Mr Bates despite challenges
The show, detailing how hundreds of innocent sub-postmasters were wrongly accused of theft, fraud and false accounting because of a defective IT system, prompted public outrage and helped put the Horizon scandal under the spotlight. Polly Hill told the Edinburgh TV Festival: 'Drama does really, really well for us, and it's a really important and integral part of ITV. 'We still make the same amount. My priority is finding stories that are right for ITV. 'That is absolutely what I spend most of my time doing, talking to producers and writers about commissioning. 'So funding at that level, at that point, which is when you're thinking about what ideas to bring to ITV. It's about making sure it's realistic, that we can make it. 'If it is a really big budget, take it to a streamer, that's fine, we can all exist together. 'But if it's right for us, and if it feels like the right sort of story, we can make it for you… I know it's much tougher, and there is less opportunities, but we haven't, so far, not funded the show that we wanted to do.' Earlier in the year, Wolf Hall director Peter Kosminsky told BBC current affairs programme Newsnight that American streaming companies have pushed up prices so the BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and Channel 5 'can't afford to make dramas like Wolf Hall anymore' or programmes such as ITV's Mr Bates and Hillsborough. Asked if it is true that ITV could not make the show today, Hill said: 'I don't think that's true. 'When we made Mr Bates it was really hard to make. It took passion from all of us and we really dug in deep to make sure we told that story. 'That was true then, and that's true now. And we still make them. 'Those four part-ers are hard, but I will continue to commission them while producers still want to make them, and we will try and find a way to make them together. 'Most of what we're doing is finding dramas that a lot of people want to watch. 'But we also can make certain decisions to make shows that we think (are) important, that we put that story in front of the nation.' A report from the Culture, Media and Sport (CMS) Committee published earlier in the year said the Government needs to ramp up support measures for the UK's high-quality drama sector while safeguarding the creation of distinctly British content, such as Mr Bates. The report said the commissioning budgets of PSBs have been 'squeezed by the real terms reduction of the BBC licence fee', as well as a reduction in advertising revenue.
