Book review: Snow Country by Yasunari Kawabata

On one level this is a love story but on others it provokes thoughts about the differences between city and country, rich and poor, guest and servant.

When Shimamura travels from Tokyo to the snow country there i a sense he has moved to not just a different part of Japan but a place where he can act differently. His relationship with Komako, is the most obvious manifestation of that change in behaviour, with a secret life being led away from his wife and children. 

But this is a different area geographically, it enjoys deep snows and feels cut off from his other existence. When he leaves after one stay in the hot springs resort he travels back by train and moves from one zone to another via a mountain tunnel. That shift sees the weather change, the landscape shift and his mental position also move.

But the focus of this story is the hot springs resort and the relationship between Shimamura and Komako,. her story unfolds over the course of a couple of trips Shimamura makes to the town. She has become a geisha to pay medical bills for her lover, forced into a life of pleasuring guests and is stuck in a trap. He on the other hand is financially secure, wastes his time on academic exercises that lead nowhere and is removed from the life of hardship those in the hot springs resort live.

The relationship is doomed and as she slides deeper into the geisha trap and isolation he appears to be less able to save her.

If you read to escape then this takes you to a land of deep snow, hot springs and Japanese customs that will take you into a different realm. Despite being a short novel it leaves you with questions around the main characters, the life the inhabitants of snow country lead and the limits of love and desire to deliver change.

Book review: American Affair the Americanisation of Britain by Susan Marling and Gerd Kittel

 

To find this book involved wading through a fair few listings for romantic or political books that wanted to cover their own types of special relationship. The attraction for me is the rest of the title, The Americanisation of Britain.

Most focus on the special relationship centres on the Second World War and the close ties as allies between the UK and US. That's true but Susan Marling argues that the crucial year when things really changed was 1956. By then Americans were driving round in their flash finned topped cars, chugging on a  Coke from their large refrigerators and enjoying their televisions. Britain, still suffering the effects of post-war austerity could only look on with envy. Add to that the flowing over the Atlantic of rock and roll, Elvis and the stars of the silver screen that flickered in British cinemas and the captivation with all things American was complete.

This books bounces along looking at areas where Americanisation can be easily spotted - movies, cars, fashion, architecture (malls and Milton Keynes) and food.

The tone is inquisitive, asking a truck driver from North London why he enjoys dressing as a cowboy complete with chaps and an imitation revolver, rather than judgemental. However, there is an acknowledgement that Americanisation splits people, with comments about the 51st State being among those arguing for less influence.

Written in the early 1990s, with Thatcher having left office, this is a book that sits at a time when the heightened Americanisation of the Thatcher-Reagan years could still be felt. A dreary Britain that often willingly adopted the neon-lighted delights from the US.

It is a companion piece to a Tv series, American Affair, that I have to admit I haven’t seen. So in some senses the chapters must have followed the progress of those episodes. What lifts the book out as something you might want to read now, without the programme, isn’t just the text but the photographs by Gerd Kittel.

Each chapter follows a pattern where the text goes so far and then the photographs take over and illustrate the points. Given they are thirty years old they now operate on a historical as well as cultural commentary level.

To be honest this is not a book anyone wanting to read more about the special relationship would start with. For me it’s part of my ongoing look into American suburbanisation and its impact on the UK. It scratches that itch but it’s quite a specific one and so I would not expect this to be sought out by too many fellow readers.

But if you want to understand more about the love affair with America and what that like looked in the early 1990s then it’s a great resource and an interesting read.

Book review: Searching for John Hughes by Jason Diamond

 

 

Continuing the theme of the suburbs in many ways the chronicler of teenage life in the Northern area of Chicago was John Hughes. Famous for The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller, Pretty in Pink and Sixteen Candles, to name just a few. Large parts of his stories were set against the backdrop of a suburban existence. His Shermer High Schools and million pound home-lined streets in Home Alone were real places that meant audiences could easily identify with them.

Among those was Jason Diamond who grew up in Chicago and walked and drove around the streets Hughes filmed and used as backdrops.

Diamond's Search for John Hughes is a personal account of his life and his search for a purpose. Things were going well until his parents divorced and the subsequent troubles that led him to follow an ambition of becoming a writer. His experiences through high school mix the comic at the same time as the tragic and there is no doubt his life was a tough one.

Settling on the idea of writing a John Hughes biography becomes his mission and shapes direction of his life taking him back into Chicago and Hughes's world. In between stints working at coffee shops or on the front desk at a  kindergarten he managed to start telling Hughes’ story. They seem to share so much in common but as he searches the more he realises that apart from Chicago and the suburbs they don't share that much. Hughes becomes more of an enigma the closer he gets to him and there are moments that they appear to share the same air but never collide.

As the Hughes biography runs into problems what does emerge is a tale of survival. Diamond becomes a Hughes character in many ways. In the same way that Annie in Pretty in Pink is inspiring so is Diamond as he emerges through years of difficulty with the writing career he deserved and the happiness he was due.

Given my recent reading this is a welcome chance to read a voice from the suburbs and hear what life was really like behind those front doors and in those high schools across Chicago.

Hughes is a different subject and like many others I enjoy his films and seek to escape into his portrayal of spaces where the losers come through and win. I'd give anything to be able to go and spend some time in the record shop in Pretty in Pink. It would take another post to go into depth on his works. But in the context of this book Diamond is Hughesian. His life story could be a gritty Hughes script, because the loser does come through. It's touch and go most of the time but you root for him throughout. Just like John Bender punching the air to Simple Mind's Don't you Forget about me at the end of Breakfast Club the kid who has gone through hell has managed to come through as one of the victors.

Book review: The End of the Suburbs by Leigh Gallagher

 

A great companion read to Meet Me By The Fountain is the End of The Suburbs by Leigh Gallagher. It runs over a similar history talking of the rise and fall of a way of living that dominated the US post war up until relatively recently.

The suburbs have always been waiting to be born, with the grid system so beloved by early settlers just waiting to be mimicked in fields on the fringes of cities. The technology to mass produce houses, Levitt style, and the need for homes spurred growth that seemed like it would never end. The dream of owning a home burned brightly in many Americans minds and as they were prepared to drive further away from the cities to where the prices would eventually come down to a price when they could afford their own home.

Once in the suburbs the dream then changed to moving up the scaler and the McMansions that littered the landscape became the ambition for many.

Thanks to the car people could drive to and from home and work on freeways, take kids to schools and clubs and pop along to the mall to do their shopping.

But a few things changed. Firstly, commuting became a drag. Not only did it take longer because congestion increased, but traditionally low gas prices ebbed away and it became more expensive. Those homes at the edge of the suburbs, the furthest from the city now became unaffordable because there was no saleable market for them and the economics of living there no longer stacked up.

The other major trend that worked against the suburbs was the re-emergence of the cities. The rough slums in some of the areas of New York that had kept people away for so long spruced themselves up and the joys of living within 15 minutes of stories, kindergartens and transport became obvious.

A final theme tha Gallagher exposes is the split within the building community, with many turning against the suburbs to concentrate on developing walkable communities that did not rely on the car.

All of those factors were exacerbated by the 2008 housing crash. In some ways this book uses that event as a platform to discuss the end of the suburbs. That is both its strength and weakness. At the time it seemed as if the collapse in the housing market, record foreclosures and the end of the housing dream would spell the end for the suburbs.

But reading this book just a year after the pandemic, when everyone was forced to stay in their homes and work and live in those same suburbs for their own safety, you have to wonder if a revision is needed. Homes became fundamental during Covid and the isolation and criticisms made in the book of expansive suburbs proved to be a benefit. Many fled their small city apartments to stay in larger family bubbles to escape isolation and loneliness.

As a result this book captures a moment in time that has passed and leaves you with more questions than answers. There is no doubt the suburbs have suffered and there are numerous YouTube channels out there touring the US to show off collapsed and burnt-out neighbourhoods to illustrate that point. Crime rates that once kept people away from cities are now doing the same in the suburbs and there are problems with unemployment, opioid abuse and violence, But many suburbs remain and there are estate agent channels that list the top 10 suburbs for couples, families and for nature lovers etc. It doesn't feel quite as apocalyptic as it did back in the few years that followed the 2008 recession.

There is no doubt the suburbs have changed and will continue to do so and this book marks a moment in that discussion about that future. Gallagher was writing about a period of mass foreclosures sparked by the recession, the first signs that the car was no longer the answer to commuting and the rise of a city alternative.

The story that Gallagher tells is one of ebbing tides of migration, of an exodus from the urban centre to the suburbs to a move by many back in, or closer to, the same cities their parents and grandparents left. The changing role of the car is also pivotal as are the generational changes that result in many younger people rejecting the attractions of the suburbs their parents embraced.

The book ends with a sense that the suburbs will never quite be the same. Her ability to chart the arguments in the planning and building communities is one of the legacies that will live on after this period because it illustrated more than anything that the money was moving from the suburbs back to the cities. The new urbanism movement has provided alternatives, the big developers that built the suburbs have moved into the cities and the love affair with the car is coming under strain. But you also sense that the love affair with the idea of personal space is not quite over and as a result the burbs might change but to a large extent stay the same.

For the history, the sense of differing viewpoints and capturing the essence of the suburbs this book hits the mark. All it needs is a post pandemic sequel to see where things stand now and where Americans now want to live.

Book review: Meet me By The Fountain by Alexandra Lange

 

My interest in American malls is not simply a case of trying to recapture a few hours spent in various locations across the US on holidays in my youth. More profoundly I'm working to this theory that there has been a significant Americanisation of the UK since the 1980s and where they led, we followed. So, if the malls are now falling into abandonment and the suburban world depicted in numerous films is over then that must have an impact on us on this side of the Atlantic. If that way of life is dying, then possibly so could the power of Americanisation on current and future imaginations.

Against that ambition to read more to flesh out my knowledge in this area I picked up Meet Me By the Fountain by Alexandra Lange.

On one level this is a history of the mall development from the Victor Gruen days of the 1950s, through to the various incarnations of T, L and strip malls that were designed by various architects un the 1960s and 70s that were built across the US in the suburbs of numerous cities.

Going through the history reveals the strength of the car and the role of government to support the growth of a world dependent on personal mobility, with Freeway Acts and zoning policies to drive the development of suburbia after the Second World War. Once out in their suburbs people needed places to shop, meet and have fun. The Mall was created to provide a place for retail, rest and entertainment. An air conditioned, weather free world that was safe and secure enticed generations of shoppers.

 Over the years the Mall came under attack architecturally, with it being seen as a low form of building, as well as from social critics who argued it operated as a private space masquerading as a public one. Protests, certain groups of people and increasingly youths were all prevented from enjoying the mall or found their activities heavily controlled by security.

Ultimately the end for many malls came as a result of poor management, the decline of the anchors - with most having relied heavily on the likes of Sears and J C Penny - as well as changes happening in the suburbs that took people increasingly back into the cities and away from the malls. Many point the finger at Amazon and other etailers but in many respects that is overblown with those web-based outlets only controlling a relatively low percentage of sales. Other more structural problems have done the real damage.

The future for many Malls seems to be as mixed housing, retail and public spaces, offering the mall as a community hub. Others continue to survive because of smart management and an ability to keep retailers on site. Local retailers, pop-up stores and boutiques selling handmade goods have proved to be a popular lifeline. Even with internet shopping there should be enough sales for the bricks and mortar operations to still enjoy.

The history ends with a look elsewhere, with malls thriving in places like Brazil and Nigeria, showing that the model can still work.

But this book also operates on a personal level. Lange has her own mall memories that add to the sadness around the fate of some of her childhood haunts. Then there are the movies, Fast Times at Ridgemont High and the TV shows, including Stranger Things, that have depicted the importance of the mall to 1980s youth culture, providing jobs, a place to hang out and fall in love plus for those keen to show a commitment to a 'tribe' as an arena to be seen.

The curiosity about abandoned malls has spawned numerous YouTube channels, with Lange recommending Dan Bell's Abandoned Malls series and Retail Archaeology as two good ones to check out. Plus it has also attracted a number of photographers who chart the decline in eerie images. Then there is the music, mallware and vaporware, that pine for those days you would walk round a busy mall with tinny music playing out of speakers, both inside and outside the stores.

On a personal level the rise and fall of the malls is one that provokes the most emotional response. You remember trips to malls and wonder as you walk around your local examples like BlueWater and see the empty units and talk by the owners of becoming more of a 'lifestyle centre', just what the future holds for those operations in the UK.

This is a serious history and as a result sometimes it can bog you down in detail but overall, it explains why the malls were built, how they tried to adapt and why so many failed. Behind it all there is a sense that the car and the re-emergence of the city are much more powerful factors than Amazon and etailing. People no longer want to drive so far and walking a few blocks in a bustling city is now seen as much more attractive.

Still, if I was given the chance to revisit Sam Goody to flick through the records and hang out by the fountain I'd be there like a shot.

Book review: This is London by Ben Judah

 
“It’s like this: Russian and Ukrainian people hate Polish and Lithuanian people. Eastern Europe peoples hate Indian people. Everybody hates the black people. Whites hate everyone . . . That’s just the way it is.” 

This book is brave and has a story to tell. In the tradition of those journalists who go out there and live the story Judah has put himself into this story sleeping rough with Romanians, dossing down with Latvian builders and getting to know African immigrants struggling on zero hour contracts.

Throughout the book, which takes the reader on a tour of an unknown London, facts and figures are given to back up a picture of a City that in some areas is now dominated by a group of Londoners that would be barely recognisable to most of those who lived here just a couple of decades ago.

What has changed is that the poor white working class communities have left areas of London to be replaced by a mixture of immigrants from Eastern Europe, Africa and beyond that have made the likes of the tube station at Hyde Park and Barking their own as they cling onto a perilous existence.

The message that came out of the book is that London has changed, perhaps permanently, and is now no longer a place that even those living here can quite understand. I have seen some of the changes in nearby Woolwich, which gets a very brief mention, and have started to feel that the London I started to know when I was a student here has maybe gone.

Because Judah speaks to drug dealers, prostitutes and those on the fringes there is a sense of danger often. A sense that the underworld is just waiting for those sitting in the big houses to slip up and then they will come and take them. Maybe that was my feeling but after a while I did start to wonder what the message was coming from this book.

If it is that London has changed and all sorts of invisible people now live here then that came across fairly quickly. It did not need to be so exhaustive. But if it was to try and convey a sense of London from West to East, North to South, changing with traditional Londoners heading for the hills then it also did that.

Maybe the readings of this book would differ if you lived in or out of the capital but for me there was almost a moment of giving up and wondering if it was worth staying here. If it has got so bad then why not just pack the bags and exit like so many others appear to?

London is changing and this book provides a snapshot of what is going on. But just like some of those other great exposes the world remains fluid and this is already becoming history. It's important to recognise that London is so mixed, not just in races but in terms of opportunities, but some of the characters here will not stay as permanent fixtures.

You already sense that this is a book written pre-Brexit and the sense of tension at the prospect of more Romanians and Eastern Europeans coming into the capital is one that is already changing. The Polish builders who have lived opposite me for 15 years are packing up and leaving and the Romanian family at the end of the street have sold their house and are moving on.

Other groups will come into replace them and it is perhaps as a snapshot of an ever changing City that this book will take its place alongside other records of the past as a guide to what it once looked like.

Judah has guts and can write with pace and in a way that challenges the reader to open their eyes that bit wider to see what is often not seen. If this can make some of the invisible visible then it will have done its job.

 

Book review: The Fall of the House of FIFA by David Conn

“We who have loved football all our lives do not want to believe that those who run the game, on their manifestos of doing good, are this corrupt and rotten,  and so marinated in greed.”

When a World Cup is awarded to Qatar, a country without any real record of football and a climate that makes playing it in the summer almost impossible, you sense that something in the global game is not right.

This book unpicks the story of the spread of corruption that spread across FIFA over decades and meant that most of the organisation's top representatives were making a side income from back handers and bribes. Against a backdrop of a FBI investigation and revelations that exposed the depth of the corruption this book reveals that the culture of corruption has long been steeped in the organisation.

If you had to point the finger of blame at anyone other than the individuals involved, and some of those like Chuck Blazer and Jack Warner are almost cartoonish in their villainy, then it would have to be television. The arrival of TV rights and the ever increasing sums of money that has gone with it have created the opportunity for corruption.

The mixture of sponsorship and TV rights were sources of income that would be paid to be involved and film World Cups but there was also the opportunity for corruption to come as a result of the structure of FIFA. With individuals holding influence over the votes for World Cup host cities and the President role there were always going to be chances that their decisions at the ballot box could be purchased.

Conn unravels a story that sadly got more depressing the deeper he went into it. The fact that Sepp Blatter appears to be able to shake-off the worst of the corruption allegations makes up very little for the numerous country FIFA bosses who did admit to taking bribes.

The suggestion that a new president at FIFA has introduced a fresh broom and a chance for the organisation to put the past behind it is also pretty well destroyed by Conn revealing the greed over salary that Blatter's successor displayed.

FIFA also appears to have been fairly consistent at neutering any investigations and attempts to clean up the organisation and stem the excesses of the past.

Reading this is not always easy because it clearly quotes a lot of legal documents and in order to make sure it does not fall foul of the lawyers keeps the text and the accusations very clear and dry. But there is enough drama here to make it keep you wanting to read on until the end.

If you love football then this book will depress you. It should because the corruption has been excessive and the way the game has been run has been a disappointment. But if you love football then there is also the ray of hope that even with some of these crooks running the game the sport still manages to move people all over the world.

My love of the game is becoming harder to maintain because of the influence of money and the billions pumped in by TV rights is also something that echoes in the Premier League. It's all a long way from kicking a ball around in the back yard and a few more books like this and maybe I too will become like to grey hairs in the crowd moaning about the good old days when everything seemed more simple. The tragedy is that as the case of FIFA shows you have to go back quite a way to find any good old days.

Book review: All the Devils Are Here by David Seabrook

Every time I have an appointment at Moorfields for my eyes I like to pop into Camden Lock Books at Old Street tube station if I get the chance. I have to go before the appointment because afterwards, once the drops have been put in, vision is not that clear and it's slightly pointless trying to squint at book spines.

One of the many things that is good about Camden Lock Bookshop is the section of books it has on London. I tend to hover there looking for something that will provide me with more knowledge or stir greater interest in the City I work and live in.

My eyes were drawn to one book on the London shelf,  Estuary: Out from London to the Sea by Rachel Lichtenstein. I headed over to the till to pay and one of the promoted books was All the Devils Are Here by David Seabrook. The cover blurb and thumbs up from Iain Sinclair were enough to make me buy it on impulse.

In many ways there are two stories being told here. The first is the one contained in the book and the other is about the author. Seabrook appears to have died just a few years after publication. Further research indicates it was a heart attack that took him but he is a shadow over the book leaving unanswered questions.

He starts a trip through some of the seaside town of Kent with reference to some of the literary, political and film stars of the past that were associated with the different towns. So you get Dickens on Rochester and Moseley on Broadstairs. You end with Charles Hawtrey the Carry On star in Deal.

But this is not just a normal trip down memory lane. There is a sense that place influenced person and the same factors are still at work today.

As he retraces the 39 Steps and John Buchan the same sense of secrets, dangers and plots oozes through modern day Broadstairs where buildings are off limits and neighbours spy on strangers.

As he goes through Kent there are moments that made me laugh having been to some of these towns and his descriptions of Rochester and Chatham were sharp.

"8 June 1870, the date of Dicken's own death, is where Rochester's history officially ends..."

"Chatham is a long time dead, killed off on 31 March 1984 when the Royal Navy, a presence for more than four hundred years, pulled out of the dockyard."

By the end there is a feeling that Seabrook himself has become immersed in the story. The devils that he has described, from mad painters and fascists, have caught up with him and he is being pursued by them. I felt there was a suggestion by the end he had even become one of them. Would people be talking of him in the future in the way he had described some writers of he past.

Of all the aspects of this book the way he described a lost world around the time of the 1950s was the one I found most interesting. The Empire was dwindling and those that lived literally on the edges of British society were forced to return to a place that they could not really call 'home'.

Glad I did pick this up and it will probably lead me into Seabrook's other book about the 60s murderer in West London, Jack the Stripper. He tees it up towards the end of this book with some overlap that acts as a warm up for that other work.

Now though it's time to turn to Estuary before I get the call to head back to Moorfields and my next check up.

Book review: Psychogeography by Merlin Coverley

"Psychogeography: The study of specific effects of the geographical environment, consciously organised or not, on the emotions and behaviour of individuals," definition from the International Situationiste movement.

This is a useful guide to an idea that is a much literary these days as it was originally political.

With roots in the works of Defoe, with his plague year trawl through London, and Blake's thoughts about London and Jerusalem, the idea of charting and reacting to an environment went political with the situationist movement in the 50s and 60s. Figures like Guy Debord set about defining psychogeography and underlining the idea of people using it as a tool to find their own space, to create something new.

But in a modern world which seems to work against the pedestrian it has become less about trying to change the environment than sharing a reaction to it.

That's not to say the current psychogeographers do not bemoan modern planning and Sinclair was particularly vocal about the development of the Olympic Park and there has been plenty of criticism of the way Thatcher changed communities during her time in office.

But as Michel de Certeau noted in the 80s things had started to change and even experiencing the environment was becoming a varied experience.

Voyeurs look down from the sky scrapers and walkers are down below. Psychogeography is about giving the emphasis back to the walkers. The vouyeur loses the individual and sees the city as a homogeneous whole.

"Their story begins on ground level, with footsteps," writes de Certeau.

Technology is working against the walker surveillance and closed areas etc as a result the novelist and poet not the psychogeographer who is able to capture the emotions of a city.

London has again become the centre with JG Ballard, Iain Sinclair and others.

Walking is again being seen as a tool for the writer. If someone wants to immerse themselves in the city then they need to do it on foot.

My only concern, which isn't dealt with in the book, is that not only has modern technology made it harder for the modern psychogeographers physically getting in touch with the ground but also in terms of having an open mind.

One of the themes of the book, whether it be about London, Paris or New York, is that psychogeographers can somehow find secret parts of the city and unlock hidden truths.

In the age of social media I find it hard to believe that rose secrets would remain so for very long or that it would be possible to walk to a destination keeping an open mind to allow the feelings it sparks to be felt genuinely.

In summary this is a very useful guide to the main ideas and people involved with psychogeography. Very interesting for anyone who has read Ballard, Sinclair, ackroyd or has an interest in major cities and a passion for walking in them.

Book review: Dottings of a Dosser by Howard Goldsmid

I have been reading The Worst Street in London by Fiona Rule, which is about Dorset Street in the Spitafields area.

One of the main reasons why that street and the neighbouring area went downhill in the Victorian times and became such a place linked with vice, poverty and crime was because of the lodging houses that dotted Dorset Street.

Lodging houses were places where people that could not afford weekly rent could pay just a few pence for a night's lodging. They were desperate folk that spent their waking hours trying to scrape together the money for the night. In theory there were rules that governed just how these lodging houses were run, but in reality people were packed in to foul smelling rooms so landlords could maximise their takings.

In an effort to get a glimpse of what this world was like I discovered the useful Dottings of a Dosser, which saw Howard Goldsmid go undercover to find out what these places were like.

Dressed in his tramp gear the 19 year old Goldsmid bravely set out to share his experiences of spending some nights in the most notorious lodging houses.

The lodging house is not just about the beds lined up next to each other in a stuffy room but starts downstairs in the communal kitchen area. Here the characters emerge with drunken couples fighting, old men sharing their survival wisdom and shocking tales of families struggling with infants in that environment.

Goldsmid rarely lasts more than until the early hours in rooms that are so stuffy and toxic as a result of the foul smelling drunken men that you can really sense the terrible atmosphere in those places. There is one room where his desperation to open the window and breath in fresh air is tangible.

The upshot of his adventure is that he concludes that the law is failing because it is not being observed and enforced. He also warns that people in that situation will surely not stand for it for ever and fears there could be a revolution.

The language is of its time and the references are in the context of the 1880s and the author would have expected the audience to have known those. But it is very readable. The decision he makes to go to different parts of London make sure that any sense of repetition is avoided.

This is an ideal companion to any reading into the state of the East End in the 1880s. It provides a first hand account of a real world that is far more shocking than fiction.

Book review: The Ghost Map - Steven Johnson

Last year I enjoyed Steven Johnson's series about where do great ideas come from- How we got to now, which was shown on the BBC and so already had an idea of who he was when I saw his name on the spine of this book.

Johnson is fascinated about how great ideas come to fruition and is a keen advocate of the theory that the big breakthroughs often come on the back of smaller ones. the concept of a single genius enjoying their light bulb moment is more of a fiction.

The same is here with it taking the efforts of John Snow and Rev Henry Whitehead to crack the cause of the cholera epidemic that ran through Soho in 1854.

Most people have a rough idea of what happened with Snow discovering that it was the drinking water that was the source of the disease and getting the pump shut off that had been spreading cholera.

But getting to that point took a long time and Snow was going against the consensus that diseases like Cholera were airborne.

What clinched the argument for Snow was his dedication in mapping the spread of the disease and finding the Broad Street pump had been the common link. But it also took the efforts of Whitehead, who initially disagreed with Snow and set out to disprove his theory. As he worked hard to counter the waterborne theory he managed to reinforce it by knocking down his own objections. It was Whitehead who found the original cholera case and traced how it found its way into the water supply.

The legacy of Snow's efforts were profound not just in the sense of linking cholera to water supply but also the way he mapped the spread of the disease. His Ghost Map is something that has been mimicked ever since and helped change the way scientists visualise data.

This is a story of the hard working hero plodding around the streets of Soho after working all day as a doctor fighting the establishment to find the real cause of the cholera outbreak.

It is a story well told but my only criticism is the sense of repetition of the main arguments. I got it the first time but there seems to be a fear from the author that unless he really spells it out the main points might be missed.

But that is a minor criticism because overall this book manages not only to share the story of what happened in 1854 but also the legacy. Snow's techniques combined with the internet, social media and the latest mapping techniques are being used right now to save lives. That is a profound legacy that has lasted well beyond the original cholera outbreak.