A note on Liam Browne

Liam Browne died on Saturday 21 February 2026. Liam Browne was a person of immense modesty. He did a lot – he was a veritable renaissance man – but one only heard about his achievements from other people; one never heard about them from him. In his one to one dealings, at least this was my experience, this was the case with our numerous one-to-one encounters, he always focused relentlessly on the business in hand. At Liam’s behest I chaired numerous interviews at literary festivals with writers and intellectuals about their own work or the work of others (I did at least seventy of these I’d say for Liam over the years), and so that was what we talked about. But what bliss it was to have those conversations and how lucky do I count myself now that I had so many of them. (The Gods were smiling there.) Liam was funny and incisive and quick, widely and deeply read, shrewd, strategic and incisive. He could sum up a text in a pithy phrase and the life of an artist in a couple of lines. His breadth of knowledge was incredible. He gave very good notes regarding how an interview should be conducted or what had to be touched upon and he always gave brilliant advice on how to handle those that in our private language we called VDPs – very difficult people. And after I had done the gig he was always immediately in touch (yes, always first) with assurance (always welcome) and understanding, and counsel as to what might be learnt from the encounter and be put to good use next time. All our conversations were fruitful, enlarging and nourishing. He gave me opportunities (for which obviously I am thankful) and, thanks to his wisdom, I am a much better person. I have had all sorts of dealings with all sorts of people in the Republic (or is it the Kingdom?) of Letters but no other figure has done what Liam did for me because no other person has enhanced me like he did. Thank Mr Browne. I shall miss you sorely.

Carlo Gebler

Tues 24 Feb ‘26