Andrew Lambirth’s approach in The Uglow Papers is a curious one. The art critic and writer eschews a conventional monograph on the British painter Euan Uglow (1932-2000) by bringing together a selection of contributors and, through a series of memoirs or papers, allowing them to speak for themselves.

Is it possible to say anything new about the French Revolution? Perhaps not, unless fresh sources come to light. Whether it might be possible to say something that has been so long forgotten that it appears to be new is a different question, one that John Hardman seeks to answer in this rigorously old-fashioned, explicitly political account of the events that lie ‘at the strategic centre of modern history’.

In the abrasive new world of strongman leaders, international institutions have lost leverage and NGOs have struggled to get a hearing (many illiberal regimes have banned them as alien influences). As the authors of this fascinating book on the Arctic argue, collaborative governance of the global commons has also atrophied.

In 1968, the French politician Pierre Mendès France was interviewed for the film The Sorrow and the Pity. Mendès France – who had escaped from a Vichy prison to join the Free French air force – described what he took to be the absurdity of the spirit in which the last governments of the Third Republic approached military matters before the defeat of 1940, which ended that republic.

We expect our doctors to be demi-gods – flawless, tireless, always right. But they are only human. Increasingly, they are stretched thin, working long hours, under immense pressure, and often with limited resources.

It was two years ago that the Oscar-winning blockbuster ‘Oppenheimer‘ sent the message that it was the Americans, or rather one American in particular, who was responsible for the atomic explosion that brought the Second World War to an explosive close.

Out of the mouths of babes comes the truth unfiltered. With little regard for the sensitivities of the adult world, young children will repeat what they have observed and heard, including a wide range of “swears” (at least in my house). In medieval French fiction and miracle tales, as Julie Singer demonstrates in this new book, a surprising number of infants are imagined as talking such truth to power.

I don’t want to rain on the new Entente Amicale’s parade; it’s just that whenever we get cosy with the French, military disaster seems to follow.

Are we, to echo Keir Starmer’s now infamous phrase, “an island of strangers”? No. But there is a deep cultural divide in this country, a cultural dissonance we don’t discuss but should. Witness the row about the Wythall Flaggers, the group that has erected numerous St George’s flags in the Worcestershire village to parade its patriotism. What does it mean?

When it comes to the ‘exotic, tawdry, and very confusing’ subject of assassinations, there have been few lone wolves. Simon Ball’s exhaustive study shows that, behind every shot fired, there’s usually a complicated conspiracy.