It would be foolish to overthink the similarities between Edward St. Aubyn and Patrick Melrose, the protagonist of his celebrated series of five wrenchingly sad, laceratingly witty novels. Certainly there are parallels — both come from aristocratic privilege, both had horrific childhoods and horrific heroin addictions, both speak in hyperfluent prose — but they go only so far.

[…] upon a smiling knoll platformed by Nature […]

Six months before Andy Warhol died of a heart attack, he finished painting his last series of self-portraits. . . . In the images, set on an inky black background, his bald head is covered by his famously disconcerting fright wig.

If all is well, a multigravida can often push the head out in seconds, but you donʼt want it that way.