Or. at least, what they were reading on the 17.34 from Victoria to Peckham yesterday. The young man sitting next to me was reading Graham Greene’s Our Man in Havana. The one opposite was reading Murakawi’s 1Q84. The young woman who got off the train in front of me was reading a Virago Modern Classic, but I couldn’t see which one. I found all this evidence of serious reading very heartening and it’s very nice to know that people are still reading Greene’s comic masterpiece. These were all actual books.
What was far from heartening was arriving at St Pancras at the week-end to find that Foyle’s had closed. I’ve spend many a happy quarter of an hour in that shop and bought many a book. There’s going to be a branch of John Lewis instead. This is sad news for those of us who regularly arrive at and depart from this station. Now there is only the very limited selection of books available from W. H. Smith. It’s a sad sign of the times, that a station the size of St Pancras International doesn’t support a proper bookshop. .