Many in the UK seek comfort in the past, whether the Celtic twilight of Camelot, or pride in the innovations of the Victorian era. But peel away the fantasies and we’re left with little – just overcooked roast beef and roundabouts. This is a rant about our obsession with the past – and obsessions in general, whether these are my own, or those of the nostalgic British public.
Tag Archives: Stewart Lee
Acton, London W3
Acton, London W3, where I discovered Welsh writer Arthur Machen in the library, slightly dishevelled, jacket all ripped.