I suppose I would have picked up on the phenomenon that is Edmund de Waal's singular book sooner or later myself. Since I started reading it, I seem to see it everywhere. But I was actually put onto this by two great friends, not as far as I know particularly coordinated in their reading habits, enthusing in equal measure about this "extraordinary" book as we sat around our regular Monday night dinner table in Strasbourg. I was left unclear about what sort of a book it actually was, but very clear about the fact it had to be read. After all, these were two understated Englishmen (OK, one of them is understated) showing almost Latin fervour about something.
