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08 March 2013


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I know you know these aready, but there's a similar kind of detachment, farcical outlook and (paradoxically?) cuddlesomeness about the Sarah Cauldwell books. They push the same buttons for me, despite some obvious divergences.

Also: try From London Far by Michael Innes, which is not like any of the 12 or 14 other Innes I've read so far.

And Edmund Crispin. Anything. Except Glimpses of the Moon which you have to save for last.


You're TOTALLY right about the Cauldwell books. I never made that connection before, and now I'm excited to re-read them! I know I have some Crispin around here somewhere, and I'll look for the Innes. YAY!

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