...in his Book of Secrets he has once again caught the present moment, what we might call the post-biographical mood, perfectly.
...it has given me much innocent pleasure; let there be other "retrospective journeys" with, perhaps, art and music as their threads.
Now he has joined forces with Ida’s granddaughter to publish her letters, and they offer a compelling glimpse of a lost age of bohemia that raises provocative questions about what it means to live freely.
Exquisitely tuned to those eccentricities, Holroyd’s sharp tap sets the ears ringing. “We were like astronomers,” he says, “unable to see light and measure time before the Big Bang.”