With a weekend getaway coming up and no podcast interviews scheduled, I was all set to start reading Michael Klarman's The Framer's Coup. It's exactly the sort of immersive read that I enjoy on a vacation, and I've needed to fill that particular gap in my knowledge for some time now.
And then I went and saw Dunkirk, which left me with an itch to read some more books on the Second World War.
Such is the power of imagery, I suppose. The scenes with the Spitfires have me longing to dip back into Stephen Bungay's The Most Dangerous Enemy or start Juliet Gardiner's The Blitz. I also have a book on the Channel Islands' occupation that I would probably enjoy reading as well. But none of them are Klarman's book, which now risks taking up permanent residence on my shelf with all of my other doorstoppers because I don't have sufficient time to devote to them. Damn you, Christopher Nolan!