There it was, on the doorstep. A parcel, obviously a book. I knew it was coming, but it was still a nice surprise to see it there. And as with most pleasant things in life, there was a story behind its arrival.
Just over two years ago, I wrote a post titled ‘Of Oxford, books and a theory of stupidity‘. The focus was my experience in buying a couple of books associated with the Oxbridge historian Hugh Trevor-Roper (T-R) at a market in Oxford. Then, out of the blue, a few months ago I received a message from a reader who was interested in purchasing one of the books, in this case a bound series of articles from T-R’s personal library. Continue reading