Jolyon Nuttall writes with feeling and depth-and often with wry humour-about episodes in his life as diverse as the romanticism of early loves, the agonies of boiling an egg, and learning to live alone after a long marriage. He has spurned the autobiography in favour of the essay as the Orwellian literary form in which to record these and other significant happenings in his life. Jolyon Nuttall is anything but a mediocre talent.
