Jeremy Clarke

Jeremy Clarke writes the The Spectator Low Life column.

Hello trees, hello sky, hello armoured riot police

25 October 2014 9:00 am

What a beautiful day, I thought, as I nodded to the porter in the bowler hat and stepped out of…

The karmic rewards of becoming a vegetarian

18 October 2014 9:00 am

 ‘Is that you, Sister?’ It was Tom misdialling again with those thick, stubby fingers of his. ‘No, it’s me: Jerry,’…

Karl Miller called me his ‘great white hope’. I failed him, of course

11 October 2014 9:00 am

As I think I said in this column the other week, I used to sneak into English lectures at University…

Chatting up Katherine Mansfield

4 October 2014 9:00 am

I like the New Zealand writer Katherine Mansfield, who according to Virginia Woolf smelt like a civet cat and had…

A visit to a drugs den above a fishmongers with Miss South America

27 September 2014 8:00 am

‘Stand outside the fishmongers in 20 minutes and call this number,’ she said, ‘and I can arrange it.’ On Saturday…

A game of dominoes turns ugly

20 September 2014 9:00 am

I’m round at Amy and Bill’s for Sunday afternoon tea. Amy and Bill are my in-laws, kind of. When I…

The bump in the night that changed my mind about pygmies

13 September 2014 9:00 am

Music of the Forest on Radio 4 last week was a profile of the anthropologist Colin Turnbull, 1924–1994, who achieved…

An undergraduate anorak at 32

6 September 2014 9:00 am

When I was 32, tired at last, for the moment anyway, of seizing the day, I stopped drinking and gave…

Glazed tiles, a barred window: it must be another morning in a police cell

30 August 2014 9:00 am

In my late twenties, it was not unusual for me to wake up in a police cell wearing a paper…

What I learned working in the lunatic asylum

23 August 2014 9:00 am

In 1984 I was 27. Since leaving school I had done unskilled manual labour, when I could get any. Then…

A road trip in the company of Long John Silver and an exciting pair of thighs

16 August 2014 9:00 am

I live in south Devon. Last week I went up to north Devon, to visit a friend who was renting…

I might have no testosterone but I do have a Fiat Barchetta

9 August 2014 9:00 am

I’ve might have no testosterone. (My production is currently being stopped by injection once every three months.) But what I…

The indiscreet charm of Jim Davidson

2 August 2014 9:00 am

Le tout Torquay was there, cramming into the Princess Theatre with a drink in each hand ten minutes after the…

My grandson’s Great Leap Forward

26 July 2014 9:00 am

‘Oscar!’ cried Miss Herd as I arrived. She was standing at the classroom door releasing her charges one by one…

I am walking to the Spectator party — sober, clean and in all my finery

19 July 2014 9:00 am

They do love a party at The Spectator. I was invited to four in ten days last week: the Apollo…

Honesty, simplicity, integrity: not what I want the morning after

12 July 2014 9:00 am

Tap tap tap at the door. I opened my eyes. ‘Check-out 10.30,’ said a neutral or possibly slightly hostile female…

A circle of love with Brown Eagle Feather

5 July 2014 9:00 am

‘I’m wasted,’ said Trev, meaning not that his life is futile, but that his mind was overwhelmed by illegal drugs.…

My night in a room haunted by falling cannonballs

28 June 2014 9:00 am

On Saturday night I went to Charlie’s 69th birthday party. What a gaff he’s got. The rather snooty description of…

An orgy of violence at the summer fête

21 June 2014 9:00 am

After three days tête-à-tête (and sometimes tête-à-pied) I walked into town alone to get some air and see what the…

A free gin, a cheeky joint: welcome back to the local

14 June 2014 8:00 am

My first time back in the local for eight weeks. The manageress lifts the flap, comes around to my side…

Sharon took to the madness of Pamplona like a duck to water

7 June 2014 9:00 am

Then there was the time I took Sharon to the Pamplona bull run. She looked very fetching in the traditional…

Two narcissists trapped in one static caravan

31 May 2014 9:00 am

I was two days alone in the caravan and no signal or reception of any sort. It was like a…

In the soft Cornish air, with the pressure off, I caved in

24 May 2014 9:00 am

Just when I was beginning to think I’d had enough, I was offered a free week in a caravan. I…

'I know what you are, and where you've come from. Be aware we are under God's protection'

17 May 2014 9:00 am

I couldn’t find the house so I called the number again. Instead of the man I’d spoken to previously, this…

My love for Sharon was like a mental illness

10 May 2014 9:00 am

As Sharon stooped to pour boiling water from the kettle into two mugs, I studied her back and wondered what,…