Ron's rages are sincere and — according to his wife — healthily cathartic. But can these splenetic outbursts loosen the grip of capitalism at its most monstrous?
CRIME stories have been a fixture at Christmas for well over a century now, and Death Comes At Christmas (Titan, £19.99), edited by Marie O’Regan and Paul Kane, is one of the best anthologies of its type I can remember.
There’s not a single weak entry among the 18 pieces by as many authors, and several real winners, with a good variety of tone and type, from locked rooms reminiscent of the Golden Age to forensic techs wearing bloodstained paper suits.
I won’t try and pick out highlights, for fear of slighting the others, except to say that Alexandra Benedict deserves a Best Punning Title prize for The Midnight Mass Murderer.
From post-human revolution in Puerto Rico to trans poetics and queer mythmaking, these three books that imagine new ways of being together
Do frozen colonists carry the virus of empire? Why is monstrosity a great way to describe capital? Was God a dustman?
KEN COCKBURN relishes the memoir of a translator, but wonders whether the autobiography underlying the impulse would make a better book
Timeloop murder, trad family MomBomb, Sicilian crime pages and Craven praise


