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Wales Online
13-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Wales Online
Debut novel by Dutch author wins 2025 Women's Prize for Fiction
Debut novel by Dutch author wins 2025 Women's Prize for Fiction Announced at a ceremony held in central London on Thursday, Yael van der Wouden, 38, won the award for her novel, The Safekeep, which explores repressed desire and the unresolved aftermath of the Holocaust in post-Second World War Netherlands (Image: PA ) A debut novel by a Dutch author has won the 2025 Women's Prize for Fiction with the judges praising it as "a classic in the making". Announced at a ceremony held in central London on Thursday, Yael van der Wouden, 38, won the award for her novel, The Safekeep, which explores repressed desire and the unresolved aftermath of the Holocaust in post-Second World War Netherlands. The novel follows Isabel, a young woman whose life in solitude is upended when her brother's girlfriend, Eva, comes to live with her in their family house in what turns into a summer of obsession, suspicion and desire. Writer and chair of judges for the fiction prize, Kit de Waal, said: "The Safekeep is that rare thing: a masterful blend of history, suspense and historical authenticity. "Every word is perfectly placed, page after page revealing an aspect of war and the Holocaust that has been, until now, mostly unexplored in fiction. "It is also a love story with beautifully rendered intimate scenes written with delicacy and compelling eroticism. Article continues below "This astonishing debut is a classic in the making, a story to be loved and appreciated for generations to come. Books like this don't come along every day." Van der Wouden will receive £30,000 along with a limited-edition bronze statuette known as the Bessie which was created and donated by the artist Grizel Niven. The judging panel for the Women's Prize for Fiction included novelist and journalist Diana Evans, author, journalist and mental-health campaigner Bryony Gordon, writer and magazine editor Deborah Joseph, and musician and composer Amelia Warner. Also announced at the ceremony was the recipient of the non-fiction award which was won by physician Dr Rachel Clarke for The Story Of A Heart, a book that explores the human experience behind organ donation. The book recounts two family stories, documenting how medical staff take care of nine-year-old Kiera in her final hours following a car accident while offering a new life to also nine-year-old Max who is suffering from heart failure from a viral infection. Journalist, broadcaster and author Kavita Puri who was the chair of judges for the non-fiction prize, said: "The Story Of A Heart left a deep and long-lasting impression on us. Clarke's writing is authoritative, beautiful and compassionate. "The research is meticulous, and the storytelling is expertly crafted. She holds this precious story with great care and tells it with dignity, interweaving the history of transplant surgery seamlessly. "This is a book where humanity shines through on every page, from the selfless act of the parents who gift their daughter's heart in the depths of despair, to the dedication of the NHS workers. It is unforgettable, and will be read for many years to come." Clarke, who is behind Breathtaking, Dear Life and Your Life In My Hands will receive £30,000 along with a limited-edition piece of art known as the Charlotte which was gifted by the Charlotte Aitken Trust. The judging panel for the non-fiction prize included writer and broadcaster Dr Leah Broad, whose work focuses on women's cultural history along with novelist and critic Elizabeth Buchan. The writer and environmental academic, Dr Elizabeth-Jane Burnett was also a judge for the non-fiction award along with the author and writer of The Hyphen newsletter on Substack, Emma Gannon. Previous winners of the fiction prize include Tayari Jones with An American Marriage and The Song Of Achilles by Madeline Miller, while the first winner of the non-fiction prize was awarded last year to Naomi Klein for Doppelganger: A Trip Into The Mirror World. Article continues below The awards were announced by the Women's Prize Trust, a UK charity that aims to "create equitable opportunities for women in the world of books and beyond".
Yahoo
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Isabel LaRosa Snuck Backstage at GovBall and Got Kicked Out. Now, She Played the Festival's Main Stage (Exclusive)
Isabel LaRosa performed a set on the main stage at the 2025 Governors Ball Music Festival in New York City on Friday, June 6 In 2021, she and brother Thomas were kicked out of the festival's backstage area "I had dropped my first song like a day before sneaking in, and now I dropped an album," LaRosa tells PEOPLEPerforming at the 2025 Governors Ball Music Festival was an oddly full-circle moment for Isabel LaRosa. The "I'm Yours" singer, 20, performed on the GovBall main stage in New York City on Friday, June 6, and the milestone moment came after she was kicked out of the festival's backstage area in 2021. "I've been wanting to play GovBall for years," LaRosa tells PEOPLE after her set, where she performed alongside brother and collaborator Thomas LaRosa — who was also previously forced to leave the backstage area as well. "I was seeing Billie [Eilish], and Thomas and I were like, 'We think we can sneak backstage. There doesn't look like there's much security,'" recalled Isabel. At the time, they successfully got backstage. "We hang out for a while, we meet [singer] Claire Rosenkranz. It was so weird," she says. "Security was like, 'What are you doing?' And then they just removed us." "So, that was really fun, but now I guess we're here," says Isabel, whose debut album Raven came out in April. "I had dropped my first song like a day before sneaking in, and now I dropped an album. Life is so weird." Through it all, she's had Thomas (who writes and produces with her and plays guitar on stage) by her side. "It's the best. We don't really fight. Everyone always asks, like, 'Do you fight?' Not really. I mean, he's kind of a weirdo. But I love him." Isabel describes her brother as a "built-in support system" throughout her career — and naturally, they've received comparisons to Eilish and Finneas, but they're yet to meet the fellow sibling duo. "I've seen her [perform] a couple times now. I love her so much," she says of the "Happier Than Ever" singer. "I'd be a little nervous [to meet her]." However, she'd get over the nerves if the opportunity came about. "We need to meet them. Let's make it happen," exclaims Isabel. "Hit a girl up!" Read the original article on People
Daily Maverick
12-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Daily Maverick
Women's prize for fiction 2025: Six experts review the shortlisted novels
There are stories about family, sex, history, death and fundamentalism. From a longlist of 16, six novels have been shortlisted for the 2025 Women's prize for fiction. Our experts review the finalists (the announcement of the winner will be today, on 12 June 2025). The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden The Safekeep, a novel about the expropriation and theft of Jewish property during and after the second world war, revisits a dark chapter of Dutch history. When Holland fell to Nazi Germany, many Dutch Jews were deported to the death camps and were stripped of their homes and belongings. Van der Wouden's debut novel shines alight on the act of keeping or maintaining things left behind that were to be reclaimed by their rightful owners, but which were lost or stolen in the war. The trauma of this history hangs over the lives of three siblings grieving the loss of their mother in 1961. Isabel, the novel's lonely protagonist, lives alone in the family house, keeping it in order as her late mother would have wanted. All the while she suspects that their maid is stealing from the kitchen. But following the arrival of her brother's girlfriend, Eva, Isabel discovers the truth of the house and attempts to right historical wrongs. By Manjeet Ridon, Associate Dean International, Arts, Design and Humanities Good Girl by Aria Aber Aria Aber's debut is a frequently poetic and powerful künstlerroman (a novel that maps the development of an artist). It follows Nila, a young Afghan woman in Berlin, as she tries to escape from her own cultural heritage and that of the German city in which she lives. For much of the novel, Nila moves through the margins of society, from her family home in a brutalist rundown apartment block in the neighbourhood of Neukölln to a seemingly endless cycle of underground clubs, parties and festivals. She pushes away her family, her childhood friends, and her college education to pursue an alternative creative life and a destructive love affair. Ultimately though, Nila realises that her artistic work and a truly independent life can only be forged through her reconciliation with the past. Set against the real far-right violence of the 2000s, Aber makes clear how social inequalities and racial prejudices effect artistic access and creativity. She also acutely captures the tensions between freedom and tradition as experienced by bicultural Muslim women grappling with the expectation to be 'good girls'. All Fours by Miranda July 'Everyone thinks doggy style is so vulnerable,' remarks one of the characters in Miranda July's latest work of fiction. This story takes sexuality as its subject along with its relationship with creativity and ageing – or more specifically, the midlife plunge from a cliff that is female menopause. Like the author, July's nameless protagonist is 45, a successful artist, and married with a non-binary child. This auto-fiction puts the author's erotic nonconformity at the centre of the frame. Our heroine embarks on a road-trip to New York, but only 20 minutes from her home she falls in love with a young man. The pair spend two weeks together in a motel pursuing a mutual obsession, which ultimately remains unconsummated. This experience upends her life and she rebounds into turbulent adventures in sex, discovering a new sense of self. Perhaps it could have been a little tighter than its 322 pages – but then again, it's a work that explores a capacious road to excess. All Fours is a funny, honest, rambunctious tale Elizabeth Kuti, Professor in the Department of Literature Film and Theatre Studies The Persians by Sanam Mahloudji 'Do they think we were just some refugees?' Shirin, one of the characters in The Persians, asks her niece Bita. 'Weren't we?' Bita replies. The question of what a refugee looks like and what kind of stories they are expected to tell is a central theme in Mahloudji's raucous, poignant novel. The story shifts back and forward in time, from Tehran in the 1940s to Los Angeles in the Reagan years, and to both America and Iran in the 2000s, interweaving the voices of five women from the wealthy and powerful Valiat family. Mahloudji explores love, miscommunication, loyalties and betrayal across generations as well as between those who left and those who stayed behind. Jewellery is a central theme in the novel: glistening in shops, hidden in suitcases or flung away in protest. It represents both the adornment of female identity and the weight of the history that the migrants carry with them. Alexandra Peat, Lecturer in English and Director of the MA in Literature and Publishing Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout Tell Me Everything is the tenth novel in Elizabeth Strout's well-known series that sketches the lives of ordinary, yet complex characters, who enter and exit each other's lives in the nowhere town of Crosby, Maine. The three main figures in this latest instalment are 90-year-old retired schoolteacher Olive Kitteridge (recognisable from Frances McDormand's realisation in the award-winning TV series by the same name), middle age fiction writer Lucy Barton, and 65-year-old lawyer Bob Burgess. Loosely, this novel can be described as a murder mystery, though the plot twist of an alleged matricide, and Burgess's decision to defend the case, are secondary to the three main characters' process of sharing previously untold accounts of forbidden, traumatic, guilty and unrequited love. It is this telling and memorialising that produces the emotional core of the novel. If sharing their past gives the ageing storytellers some respite from the burden of their hidden lives, it is not in the kind that comforts with meaning and purpose. In Strout's novel, this relief is unavailable and is replaced with the more ephemeral solace of simply being heard. Fundamentally by Nussaibah Younis At the heart of Fundamentally is the affinity that forms between narrator Nadia, appointed by the United Nations to rehabilitate 'Isis brides' in Iraq, and one of her subjects, Sara, an east Londoner on the cusp of adulthood. They connect through a shared love of rollerblading, Dairy Milk and X-Men, as well as their caustic sense of humour. But the two British Muslim women have followed vastly different routes – Nadia to academia and the UN and Sara to a detention camp in Ninewah. Nadia's story of her journey through the vagaries of the humanitarian sector, punctuated by flashbacks to her failed relationship with first love Rosy and fraught relationship with her mother, is told with a compelling mix of verve and vulnerability. It raises hard ethical and political questions along the way. But it is Nadia's mission to help Sara that gives the novel its emotional complexity and depth, drawing the reader in while denying us any easy answers. Rehana Ahmed, Reader in Postcolonial and Contemporary Literature. DM This story first appeared in The Conversation. Manjeet Ridon is a Associate Dean International, Arts, Design and Humanities. Éadaoin Agnew is a Senior lecturer in English literature. Elizabeth Kuti is a Professor in the Department of Literature Film and Theatre Studies. Alexandra Peat is a Lecturer in English and Director of the MA in Literature and Publishing. Yianna Liatsos is a Associate Professor in the School of English Irish and Communication. Rehana Ahmed is a Reader in Postcolonial and Contemporary Literature.
Atlantic
08-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Atlantic
Paris Can Be Intimidating—But It Has Great Butter
This is an edition of The Atlantic Daily, a newsletter that guides you through the biggest stories of the day, helps you discover new ideas, and recommends the best in culture. Sign up for it here. The Innocents Abroad, Mark Twain's account of his international adventures, made him famous—and cemented the stereotype of the Ugly American. One hundred and fifty-eight years later, Caity Weaver followed him to Paris. Caity and I chatted about her hilarious recounting of her trip in The Atlantic, why Paris can feel so intimidating, and the only food she ate there that she actually liked. Isabel Fattal: If you could go back in time and travel to Paris with Mark Twain, would you? Caity Weaver: Could I be assured of a safe return? Isabel: Yes, for imagination's sake. Caity: Absolutely. I would go anywhere with him. One of the things I was struck by when I reread this book before my trip was how unbelievably funny it is. Of course I knew that Mark Twain was 'a humorist,' but there were sections where I was laughing out loud. I think a lot of times when people think of old books, they get an idea in their head of a book that's really stuffy or boring. But this was cracklingly interesting. As a reader, it's rewarding to come across prose like that. As a writer, it's extremely irritating and intimidating. This man was funnier than I'll ever be, and he did it in 1869. Isabel: Do you have a favorite line or passage from the book? Caity: There was a section where he wrote about what he calls 'the Old Travelers'—well-traveled know-it-alls you sometimes encounter abroad: 'They will not let you know anything. They sneer at your most inoffensive suggestions; they laugh unfeelingly at your treasured dreams of foreign lands; they brand the statements of your traveled aunts and uncles as the stupidest absurdities.' Isabel: If you could ask Twain one question about his trip, what would it be? Caity: I would say: 'Sam, Mr. Clemens, did you go to the Louvre? Did you set foot inside the Louvre, really?' I can't prove that he didn't, but I strongly suspect that he didn't. And I feel like he would tell me. Can't kid a kidder. Isabel: You write in your story about the possibility that Twain was ashamed about not understanding the art at the Louvre. Does visiting Paris make a person feel like they need to have a certain level of cultural knowledge? Did you feel intimidated at any point? Caity: I feel like a completely idiotic, disorganized, disheveled crumb bum anywhere, but especially in Paris. It's like walking into a very fancy hotel lobby. Some people are going to be really comfortable there, and some people are going to think, Am I gonna be arrested for walking into this hotel lobby? Paris is so just-so. I find it to be an intimidating place. The combination of not really speaking the language and the city being so beautiful … I felt a little bit on edge there. Isabel: I have one bone to pick with you. I think you were eating wrong in Paris. You didn't eat anything yummy! Caity: I sure didn't. (Well, I had great ramen.) Isabel: What went wrong? Caity: I didn't eat anything I absolutely loved except the butter. I had a crêpe suzette—delicious, and thrilling to have a small fire caused in a restaurant at your behest. I had some croissants. I really was hoping to be able to write, 'Oh my God, I found the best croissant in the world,' and I just don't think I did. But the butter: unbelievably good. I took so many notes for myself trying to describe the color and the taste of the butter. [ Reads through her notes.] I suppose I am an Ugly American, because this is my description of butter: 'creamy; has a scent; smells almost like movie theater butter.' The color was such a rich, deep yellow, almost like how an egg yolk can sometimes tip over into orange. My notes say, 'So fatty and rich.' Next bullet point: 'like if the whole room were made out of pillows.' And then: 'Yes, I realize I am describing a padded cell.' But it was an ultimate richness, softness, like, Just let me roll around in a padded cell. That was how I felt eating this butter. I took dozens of photos in my hotel room trying to capture its exact hue, and failed to. I encountered another group of Americans in my hotel lobby who were trying to figure out a way to transport butter home in their luggage. I involved myself in their conversation, as Americans do: What if the hotel was willing to store it in a freezer, in an insulated lunch bag? We devoted quite a bit of time to solving this problem. Caity: Oh, no, I think they're probably enjoying that butter right now. I wanted to bring a bunch of dried sausage back to the U.S. And then, after I purchased it, I realized that I could get in trouble for flying with it. I ate so much saucisson in my hotel room so fast. I worried such a dense concentration of salt might cause my heart to shut down. I Googled something like: How much dried sausage too much. Here are three Sunday reads from The Atlantic: The Week Ahead Essay A High IQ Makes You an Outsider, Not a Genius By Helen Lewis Who has the highest IQ in history? One answer would be: a 10-year-old girl from Missouri. In 1956, according to lore, she took a version of the Stanford-Binet IQ test and recorded a mental age of 22 years and 10 months, equivalent to an IQ north of 220. (The minimum score needed to get into Mensa is 132 or 148, depending on the test, and the average IQ in the general population is 100.) Her result lay unnoticed for decades, until it turned up in The Guinness Book of World Records, which lauded her as having the highest childhood score ever. Her name, appropriately enough, was Marilyn vos Savant. And she was, by the most common yardstick, a genius. I've been thinking about which people attract the genius label for the past few years, because it's so clearly a political judgment. You can tell what a culture values by who it labels a genius—and also what it is prepared to tolerate. The Renaissance had its great artists. The Romantics lionized androgynous, tubercular poets. Today we are in thrall to tech innovators and brilliant jerks in Silicon Valley. Vos Savant hasn't made any scientific breakthroughs or created a masterpiece. She graduated 178th in her high-school class of 613, according to a 1989 profile in New York magazine. She married at 16, had two children by 19, became a stay-at-home mother, and was divorced in her 20s. She tried to study philosophy at Washington University in St. Louis, but did not graduate. More in Culture Catch Up on The Atlantic When Pete Hegseth's Pentagon tenure started going sideways The travel ban shows that Americans have grown numb. The Trump administration is spending $2 million to figure out whether DEI causes plane crashes. Photo Album Spend time with our photos of the week, which include images of monsoon flooding in India, Dragon Boat Festival races in China, a huge tomato fight in Colombia, and more.
The Guardian
08-06-2025
- Health
- The Guardian
Dining across the divide: ‘I don't think I broadened his perspective'
Occupation Pharmacist Voting record Lib Dem Amuse bouche He once saw Rio Ferdinand in a cafe near his mum's house. 'I looked at him, smiled and then remembered I was a Liverpool fan' Occupation Assistant financial analyst Voting record Usually Labour, 'for my sins'. Would like the Greens to get in but doesn't think they can Amuse bouche Has survived breast cancer three times Isabel Lovely bloke. I'd meet him again in a heartbeat. He felt like an old uni mate I hadn't seen for ages. I had duck breast and then the cod. Naser She's lovely, lovely, lovely. A very educated, genuine young lady. She's been through a lot, but is still smiling, still battling, still fighting and still happy. I had monkfish, then stuffed cod with reduced lobster bisque. It was delicious. Isabel For me, the NHS must be preserved. What I didn't realise until I spoke to Naser was just how much strain everybody in the NHS is under. It wasn't that we disagreed about the size of it, it was more about how it is managed. The impression I had initially is that he wanted to cut it back, but what he was actually saying is that because of the pure demands on the service, we need to do what they do in France and Germany, so you pay in and you get mixed access. Naser The French and Dutch systems have insurance models – co-pay – and they don't have doctors on strike. My proposal was to make corporations and big companies pay for private insurance for their staff. It happens a bit already. Make it law. It will reduce the financial burden on the NHS. But the problems in the NHS aren't just about money – you could add another £10bn/20bn/30bn and the fundamental flaws would still be there. Isabel When you think of an insurance model, you always think of America, where if you don't have the money, you die. I still don't know what the right answer is. I don't think I broadened his perspective; he knows what it's like. He was coming from a place of taking the pressure off the people who work in the NHS. They need to feel that they're valued, that they can do their jobs, that the facilities are good. Naser I've seen private prescriptions just explode – people can't get to see their GP and they'd rather pay £50 than go through the frustration. So they're being forced into it, rather than it being organised properly. Why can you buy a box of Viagra over the counter, but not a blue asthma inhaler? This is an unnecessary regulatory burden that means people have to faff around, involve 111 and emergency services. Isabel Basically, we really bonded over the fact that when you're a second-generation immigrant, your parents say: lawyer, doctor, accountant, those are the jobs you're allowed to do. It's very hard to break free from those shackles if you want to do something else. We both understood it – we both saw it. Naser She's Ghanaian by background; I'm Palestinian. We had a lot of shared immigrant perspective. We both felt that our parents pushed us hard to go to university, to go into a profession, to prove ourselves. They wanted to justify the investment, justify leaving, to people back home. My dad was a consultant surgeon, head of his department in the NHS, but did he have to do that? Could he not just have been a good guy? Isabel The Labour party have really moved away from where they started, and become a centre-right party. They say they want the right kind of immigrant, but what is the right kind of immigrant? Naser Starmer is a human rights lawyer, and he's not doing enough to call out Israel for starving the Gaza Strip. He's completely vapid. Isabel We exchanged numbers, so I'm hoping I can hit him up in three months. Naser It was so friendly – we had a lovely time. I think we were both open-minded, and we both felt that the capitalist class is really screwing people over. Additional reporting: Kitty Drake Isabel and Naser ate at The Cavendish, London SW1 Want to meet someone from across the divide? Find out how to take part
