I've been wanting to write about several things: Armistead Maupin, the act of re-reading, Jane Austen and the daily practise of writing by hand ( as opposed to using keyboard and screen). Tales of the City has been my pre-sleep book of late; it's light, entertaining, caustic, witty. Just what you need when Murakami seems far too heavy but you don't want to dumb down to airport trash, moments to reach for Ian Rankin, Fred Vargas and Armistead Maupin. If Tales of the City were food it would not be a banquet, or four-course French gastronomie but a well-made high-class snack. I imagine this book as a sourdough sandwich, filled with roast tomatoes, organic goats cheese and local mesclun, served with hand-made beetroot crisps.
P.S To clarify, I consider sandwich-making an art.