My copy of Martin Salisbury’s book has already passed the acid test. A couple of people have asked to borrow it, on what will probably turn out to be a one-way journey. It’s a delightful, deeply learned anthology (containing 371 illustrations) that lovingly confirms the ways in which good art and erudition will find their way into any convenient nook or cranny.

I lament the passing of the vinyl LP. There was so much of value not merely in the sounds the disc packaged but in the packaging itself. Twelve inches gave artists room – for an omnium-gatherum if you were Peter Blake doing a Beatles cover. In the era of

Literary Review

Dec 2017

Categories

John Sutherland

Shelf Reflection

Brexit Lit

The Hazards of his Love-Bed

She Called It a Puny Town

Paperback Pusher

The Needle & the Damage Done

Body Language

Fu Man Who?

The Hidden Tradition

Alms for Oblivion

Nibs Drawn

Go, Gadget

A Tale of Two Dickens

My Own Private Idiolect

In A Bind

Wake Up, England!

‘Look, I’m Listening, and listen, I’m looking.’

Coarser Connections

Biblomania

Between The Covers

Rare Book-Dealer

Ha’p’orth of Tar

Room For Reviews?

Pulp Non-Fiction