Jeremy Clarke

Jeremy Clarke writes the The Spectator Low Life column.

Low Life

My French lessons with Lord Nelson

Wearing two masks struck me as being as absurd as wearing two hats and I laughed

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

My best Duke of Edinburgh salute for my oncologist

I have a new cancer but the doctor is ecstatic that we have found it so soon. He is brisk and unsentimental and I like him

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

The tyranny of French bureaucracy

Applying for a bank account is like trying for a permit to open a Christian bookshop in North Korea

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

My thrilling rendezvous with the sausage lady

The rendezvous with the sausage lady was, as before, the car park of a line of motorway toll booths

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

My €25 COVID shot surprise

I felt like the bloke in that blistering hymn whose chains fell off, whose heart was free, who rose, went forth and followed Thee

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

In praise of nuns

When the nuns begin to sing, their soaring, piercing voices make you look for a microphone

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

What French women want

For sheer gale-force-10 sexual power, I must mention Christine, a hardworking local waitress in her early thirties

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

My message to the log police

The woodman fastened his nose on my Barbour and inhaled fanatically. ‘Barbour,’ he said. ‘Oh-la-la-la-la’

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

French tag sales are good for my mental health

It is refreshing and enlivening to be among the poor for a change

By Jeremy Clarke

Home

The magic of Anthony Powell

As the radioactive liquid flowed into my veins, I found my page and was transported to a literary luncheon in 1969

By Jeremy Clarke

Low Life

From half a shelf to a library: my life in books

There was a time when I couldn’t afford to buy books; now I have a metric ton

By Jeremy Clarke

Home

I was the only Trump supporter among the olive-pickers

Warned in French that I was for the Donald, the Armenian stepped closer to scrutinize me

By Jeremy Clarke

Drink

The joy of red wine

Pretty much overnight, I have developed a taste for it — and life has become easier

By Jeremy Clarke

Home

Is my phobia of upmarket restaurants misplaced?

For all its art and famous clientele, the Colombe d’Or is no more than an upmarket canteen

By Jeremy Clarke

Home

We’ve gone from summer to winter in the course of an afternoon

Sunless Provence is grim. The locals go from semi-nudity to dressing like Nanook of the North

By Jeremy Clarke

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