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52 weeks, 52 books

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But I’m going to say nice things (with one minor exception), so no harm done. Quindlen, who is a journalist for the New York Times and Newsweek, has a great deal of affection for London, and it shines through here. She traces a number of routes through the city, and informs and educates in a way that makes me wish that this had been done with an interactive guide (or better still, a real-life London guide) to illustrate the locations she’s talking about. A lovely thing, if a little light in it’s treatment of the resonance of location, history and well….

I have found the word - that’s the word that Wordpress (or something on my host’s server settings) doesn’t like. Here’s a clue – it rhymes with mysology, but is about the mind, and has a lot to do with the study of memory…

The last paragraph of the post, by the way, reads:

The exception to all of the nice things is that at the start of the book Quindlen relates the story of her first arrival in London early one Sunday morning. Her taxi ride to the Groucho club and the subsequent walk into Covent Garden are nicely described and evocative of London at that time of day, but her account of buying the Sunday papers is a little flawed.

The Guardian isn’t published on a Sunday, Anna. Sorry.

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