This book was given to me by my mom for Christmas. Written in London dry prose, the author talks about his experiences working at a rare book shop. I enjoyed this book mostly because I wasn’t sure if it was fiction or non, and at these levels of sarcasm and humor I’m still not sure.
A long time ago I met a friend at a concert, who brought along a friend I didn’t know, and after talking and drinking I told a terrible joke, and this new person laughed almost to the point of tears. I wasn’t sure at the moment whether the laugh was authentic or not, without any background info. But I felt sort of the same way reading this book, and to be honest I enjoyed it a lot more than the episode with my friend’s friend.
At first I thought that this might be a story, but it turns out to be full of (what the author clearly will admit to being) “ramblings”. The self-deprecation is turned to nearly maximum level, but we watch this book seller go from apprentice to veteran, and see very weird situations happening daily.
There were so many witty turns and comments that I felt like I wanted to highlight almost every page. Maybe I just need to read more English writers.
It was a fun book to read, maybe even more fun for booksellers as I’m sure they’ll be getting the jokes much more clearly than I would.
Next I am reading The Algebra of Wealth by Scott Galloway. Time to see how far behind I am with my financial future!
