The CEO of Amazon Jeff Bezos has said ‘the physical book and bookstores are dead’. This week competitors are invited to celebrate this endangered species and submit a poem (of up to 16 lines) in praise of bookshops. Please email entries to lucy @ spectator.co.uk by midday on 21 August and mark them Competition 2812.
In Competition 2809 you were invited to submit a letter liberally sprinkled with evidence of an imperfect grasp of foreign languages. In his 1946 essay ‘Politics and the English Language’ George Orwell took a pop at the self-conscious use of foreign words and expressions: ‘Cul de sac, ancien régime, deus ex machina, mutatis mutandis, status
This week we have another old favourite. Competitors are invited to take an existing word and alter it by a) adding a letter; b) changing a letter; and c) deleting a letter; and to supply definitions for all three new words. (Total word count of entry 150 words maximum.) Please email entries to lucy @
In Competition 2808 you were invited to invent a new addition to the genre that already includes Tartan Noir and Nordic Noir. This was another invitation to leap aboard the latest literary bandwagon. The new noirs stretched from Devon to space via Middle Earth and Antarctica. You didn’t allow yourselves to be pinned down by
This week competitors are invited to submit a lighthearted poem, of up to 16 lines, on a serious subject. For inspiration have a look at J.B.S. Haldane’s 1964 comic poem ‘Cancer is a funny thing’. Please email entries to lucy@spectator.co.uk by midday on 7 August and mark them Competition 2810. Here are the results of
In Competition 2807 you were invited to submit a hatchet job by a well-known author of your choice on a book or poem by another well-known writer. This challenge was inspired by the Omnivore’s magnificent Hatchet Job of the Year award, which it describes as ‘a crusade against dullness, deference and lazy thinking’. In 1865
The Spectator literary competition has been going strong for decades. Every week readers are invited to show off, in verse or prose, their wit, verbal dexterity and satirical genius. We have had parodies and palinodes; lipograms, limericks and double dactyls; aphorisms and acrostics. The results are brilliant, original and often hilarious. Certain names do crop
Shaftesbury Avenue might not be traditional bear-hunting territory, but young adventure-seekers would be well advised to beat a path this summer holidays to the Lyric Theatre where Michael Rosen’s much-loved classic We’re Going on a Bear Hunt has been imaginatively translated to the stage by Sally Cookson (until 8 September). The story follows an intrepid
In Competition 2806 you were invited to submit alternative endings for well-known novels or poems. A Farewell to Arms, The Special Edition, gives Hemingway fans the opportunity to look at the 47 alternative endings that he played with before making what was clearly an agonising choice. Some are more blunt, some more optimistic than
In Competition 2805 you were invited to submit toe-curlingly bad analogies. Congratulations! You obliged with a stream of analogies glorious in their overwrought, tasteless, laboured awfulness. The first five competitors printed below get £15 each. Basil Ransome-Davies and Adrian Fry take £10 and the remaining half-dozen pocket a fiver each. Her kisses were like
In Competition 2804 you were invited to supply a poem containing as many ingenious rhymes as possible. Ogden Nash, one of the great rhymesters of recent times, said, ‘I think in terms of rhyme, and have since I was six years old.’ And though rhyme may fall in and out of favour, its power is
In Competition 2803 you were invited to supply a nostalgic poem about a product that is no longer available. I found myself transported back to the good old days of the Hillman Imp, Spangles and — among many other lost but not forgotten delights — Dr J. Collis Browne. ‘Oh for a taste of Fuller’s
In Competition 2802 you were invited to supply a poem on the subject of your choice in which the final letter of each line becomes the first letter of the next line. As usual with this type of technical challenge, strenuous accusations of sadism were directed judge-wards: many entrants echoed Brian Allgar’s sentiments below.
In Competition 2801 you were invited to rewrite, in pompous and prolix style, any well-known simple poem. Space is on the tight side so, pausing only to congratulate and commiserate with the longer-than-usual list of those who narrowly missed out — Mae Scanlan, Mary Holtby, Nigel Stuart, George Simmers, Rob Stuart, Ray Kelley, Adrian
In Competition 2800 you were invited to reconstitute a well-known work of literature as a tweet, i.e., text of up to 140 characters, including spaces. A few years ago Alexander Aciman and Emmett Rensin, two students from the University of Chicago, embarked on a mission to make the great works of literature more palatable to
In Competition No. 2799 you were invited to submit a poem about smells. Edward Thomas’s wonderfully evocative poem ‘Digging’ inspired this challenge: ‘Today I think/ Only with scents, — scents dead leaves yield,/ And bracken, and wild carrot’s seed,/ And the square mustard field…’ Thanks to Brian Allgar, who submitted an entry that missed the
In Competition No. 2798 you were invited to choose one of the following real headlines from regional newspapers — ‘W. Norwood “Curry Cat” murder latest’, ‘Badger shot by St Ives locksmith’, ‘“Smug” Swans attack dalmatian’ — and to submit the full report behind one of them. ‘Smug Swans attack dalmatian’, from the Ham & High,
In Competition No. 2797 you were invited to think of the worst possible title for a poem and then write that poem. Oh, for more space! This challenge brought in a large and excellent entry that fizzed with the spirit of McGonagall and McKittrick Ros. I don’t have space to commend all I’d
In Competition No. 2796 you were invited to submit a poem about a minor ailment written by a hypochondriac. Brian Dillon, in his book Tormented Hope: Nine Hypochondriac Lives, gives a vivid description of the hypochondriac’s mental and emotional landscape: ‘You listen constantly, in a kind of trance, for communications from your body; it is
In Competition No. 2795 you were invited to submit a palinode (a poem retracting a previously expressed opinion) on behalf of a well-known poet. We’ve done this before and the results were so impressive I thought we should give it another go. This time round I reluctantly disqualified some extremely funny, well-made poems because