Robert Devereaux: 3 books

Caliban’s my name. Ah, but what’s in a name? You imagine you know me from The Tempest. But God damn that wretch Will Shakespeare to some special circle of hell. He had a nasty habit—recall Richard III—of skewing history to his own purposes. Caliban? He ain’t nothing like the...

Uh-oh! God the Father’s done wigged out. Santa’s just reported that the entire tone and texture of Earth has darkened, in the USA especially, on his Christmas rounds this year. It seems a would-be tyrant is gearing up to tyrannize. America’s democratic republic teeters on its last legs,...

Oedipus . . . Freud's favorite whipping boy . . . Ernest Jones' ridiculous rationale for Hamlet's mom-and-pop obsessions . . . and the most famous motherfucker of them all . . . Pity the ultra-discombobulated prince of Corinth, hoping for Delphic reassurance. Goggle-eyed oracle gawks and gasps...