C.S. Lewis does not come to lovely conclusions about his God or his religion or his suffering. He asks many more questions than he answers. He rants, questions, weeps and feels terrible, deservedly sorry for himself and for the woman he loved so much and has now lost. And in doing so, he renders in prose what it really feels like to grieve.
Jessica MesmanApril 24, 2019

March 26, 2019

‘Hillary and Clinton’ and ‘Lear’: Upstaging male leaders

In Hnath’s play, Hillary has put all her bets on competence, while Bill unsurprisingly presses her to show more humanity.

The Catholic art of Frida Kahlo

Kahlo’s paintings, the vast majority of which are self-portraits, are rife with self-revelation,

Review: There is more than one way to convert to Catholicism

Many will find Sohrab Ahmari’s account of coming to faith compelling and moving, while others may find his emphasis on an authoritative church confusing or even off-putting.