A deceptively quick read, for all that this is a book that could never be accused of wearing its pretensions lightly. Never mind the quality, feel the research.
And that, sadly, is all I can really remember about this book now that I’ve time to write about it. Except to say that, seemingly bored of walking around New York, Julius jets off to Brussels and spends a few chapters walking around there, instead. During this time he engages with some Muslim characters for what felt to me in mid-March like some pretty contrived and superficial discussions about colonialism and resistance. Feelings which were sadly overtaken by events only too soon after, and now it’s pretty much impossible for me to tease the two apart.