Helm

Helm is one of the most imaginative and ambitious novels I have read in a very long time. Its central character is a wind. Not the wind, but a very specific wind peculiar to a certain part of northern England, a wind familiar to its inhabitants since humans first occupied that place. A wind so unpredictable and so ferocious that it has been feared, revered, placated, studied, and measured for thousands of years by those who know it.

The success, critical and commercial, that this novel is enjoying right now must owe something to its resonance with readers at a time when our engagement with the natural world in general and the climate in particular is so complex and divisive. Sarah Hall reminds us that our relationship with nature has never been simple. The characters in this novel may fear or despise the wind for its destructive power and apparently willful influence on their daily lives, but one thing they are not is indifferent. Helm will not allow indifference or tolerate complacency. Wherever one stands on the climate crisis and the extent of it, one thing is unarguable. We are where we are, at least in part, because we have become indifferent to the natural world, careless despoilers of it, and often arrogantly contemptuous of it. Helm reminds us that there are consequences for this, debts to be settled, and a price to be paid. Nature can only tolerate so much before a payback is demanded. I hope this doesn’t make the novel sound preachy or dull because nothing could be further from the reality. Helm is funny, joyful, and quirky, and always thought provoking.

Sarah Hall’s most recent novel was first published in late 2025 and has attracted the sorts of reviews that writers dream of getting. I recall reading her first novel (Haweswater) more than twenty years ago and the deep inpression it made on me. Helm will, I hope, bring a whole new set of readers to her wonderful body of work.

Raphael: Sublime Poetry

I have two pieces of advice for anyone thinking about going to see the blockbuster exhibition at the Met, Raphael: Sublime Poetry. First, don’t hesitate. This is a once in a generation event that closes at the end of June, a unique opportunity to see in one place a collection of truly wonderful paintings and drawings by the Renaissance master (1483-1520). Second, plan your visit with great care and cunning. Anyone who doesn’t will be standing in very long lines and in small crowds clustered around the major works.

As is so often the case with exhibitions devoted to great Renaissance painters (I recall the same experience at the Michelangelo show in 2024 at The British Museum), the thrill here is the opportunity to see up close drawings, “cartoons”, and preparatory sketches normally hidden in or dispersed among different collections around the world. It’s not that the paintings are not superb. They are, and, in fact, this might be the exhibition that puts Raphael as a painter back where he belongs in art lovers’ eyes, as the equal of Michelangelo and Leonardo. It’s just that the drawings demonstrate his exquisite skill for rendering every part of the human figure with such expressiveness and delicacy. The grace, power, and fragility of the body have rarely been captured so beautifully.