Home By India Knight

This is a letter from Henri Matisse to his lifelong friend André Rouveyre, a cartoonist and illustrator. During a certain period they were both in the Midi and sometimes wrote to each other twice a day - jokes, observations about daily life, chat about current and future projects. There’s a book of some of the best letters, many of which were decorated, like this one from 1942.

Good morning! It’s too hot again and the dogs have spent most of the week barking at giant combines (wheat harvest, a month early). World Cup preparations are afoot - Belgium tonight (I’m writing this on Friday), and obviously ENGLAND on Saturday, TONIGHT as you read. This by Sophie Heawood is great on that subject. I almost can’t bear how badly I want those boys to win.

What I love about Jenny Jackson’s books is that they present as breezy - pure joy to read - but are also really satisfyingly meaty and astute (and funny). They’re absolutely pin-sharp when it comes to characterisation, situations and descriptions of various social milieus. The novels are a very rewarding read - you sort of feel like you’re eating cake and then realise you’ve actually had a perfectly-balanced, highly nutritious, protein-packed meal. Do you know what I mean? She sneaks the greens in.

Good morning! First things first: thank you very VERY much to my paid subscribers, whose support means I get to write this newsletter. It is my favourite thing to do. Also whenever I meet any of you, which is now quite often, I just really like you as people. I always feel like we could just hang out, chatting away, having a lovely time. This is the dream situation for a writer, and I think it’s quite rare. I am extremely lucky to have you. Really, thank you.

The Vale of Health, a highly desirable, very private enclave in Hampstead, London NW3, where the book is partly set. This painting of it - The Vale of Health, Hampstead Heath, 11 June - is by Ernest Stamp, 1869-1942 Lisa’s psychological thrillers have sold 12 million copies, and no wonder, frankly. They’re in a league all of their own.

I’ve banged on about The Wreck at intervals since before it was published. It is a brilliant and exceptionally well-observed illustrated novel about life, friendship, coupledom, middle age, dreams, success, envy and desire. Lizzy Stewart writes as beautifully as she draws, so it’s a book that is as satisfyingly wordy as it is thrillingly visual, as you’ll see from the extract below. Here’s the set-up: it’s 1995 and Charlotte and Bill live in a damp, squashed rented flat in Bristol.

Aside from inspiring a bestselling book, Home has over 85,000 subscribers and is the number 1 global bestseller in House & Garden, where all the lifestyle-ish stuff lives. Come and join us! You can read more about why you might want to do that (or not) here. This is a free post. Free posts auto-paywall after 2 weeks.

Morning! Have you melted? I have. I feel like one of those cartoons that’s an amorphous blob/puddle with just a pair of eyes. I’m writing this on Friday, the hottest day of the heatwave yet, from what is today officially the hottest place in the UK. It is grotesquely hot. I’ve just restacked the bookshelves in my office because they were repainted this week and the books were in piles on the floor, blocking my desk.

Good morning! Apologies for the lack of Supplement this weekend. I was in London having a lovely time cramming everything and everyone in, which left me with nary a spare minute to put together the usual Saturday post. Compiling these properly takes me a really long time, and this week I just didn’t have it. So I’m writing you a letter instead.