Andrew Miller
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Andrew Miller’s latest novel is easy on the ear but his heroine is inscrutable to an infuriating degree
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Ahead of this year's Bastille Day, novelist Jonathan Grimwood chooses fiction's best treatments of the mother of modern revolts
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Novelist Andrew Miller admits he is fascinated with death and decay. It's a theme that permeates his Costa prize-winning novel, Pure, set around an 18th-century Parisian cemetery
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Andrew Miller reads from and discusses his novel Pure, which has won this year’s Costa book of the year prize, and we listen in to last night’s award ceremony
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Miller's tale of Paris before the revolution captures the past without any hint of artificiality
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Vivid tale of life in pre-revolutionary Paris beats Matthew Hollis's biography of Edward Thomas to £30,000 prize cheque
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Despite its morbid subject matter, Andrew Miller's latest novel, the Costa-shortlisted Pure, is full of ghoulish fun. He tells Lindesay Irvine how he was lured back to historical fiction
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Strong characters are crucial to fiction. You can borrow traits from real life, but the best characters are born of a deeper human understanding, writes Andrew Miller
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Andrew Miller drops us right into the contagion and contamination of Paris in the dying days of the ancien regime, writes Leo Robson
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From Rosemary Sutcliff to Hilary Mantel, the novelist chooses his favourite books drawing on history's 'rattle-bag of wonderful stories'
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Miller details middle-class Tokyo life with such intricacy, it is a relief when larger events intrude, writes Isobel Montgomery
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Andrew Miller's exploration of redemption, The Optimists, has a shocking and bloody backdrop, says Stephanie Merritt.
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Andrew Miller stretches his technique to the limit with his adagio on an unnamed African massacre, The Optimists, says James Buchan.
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Paperback writer: Andrew Miller found himself starved of oxygen in melancholy Dublin
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To mark this year's Guardian Hay Festival, eight writers were invited to contribute to a 'baton story'. Here Andrew Miller picks it up...
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Inside the house his father's clocks were striking the hour. Faintly, the chimes carried to where he stood in the garden, a lank young man in a summer sweater and shapeless blue trousers, wiping the lenses of his glasses with the corner of a crumpled handkerchief. He had spent the last hour with the hose watering the flower-beds and giving the ground around the younger trees a good soaking, as he had been instructed to. Now, having carefully coiled the hose, he made his way back towards the house, his progress shadowed by a cat that pushed through the stems of delphiniums and peonies and oriental poppies. At the top of the house, the light in Alice's room shone dully from between half-open curtains.
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Bereft siblings and trapped miners are yoked together in Andrew Miller's controlled, claustrophobic novel, Oxygen
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Alfred Hickling on the bleak beauty of the suffocating world of Oxygen by Andrew Miller
Paperback writer Andrew Miller: 'I was trying to leap out of my habitual mind'