h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

When I read a book, what I read insinuates itself into my life, floating out of dreams and daydreams. I live and breathe the atmosphere of the work, it taking command and control over me.

This can be awkward: for example, something like Norman Mailer’s ‘Ancient Evenings’ - whatever the day may be like, or the location in which I am found, I suck in the pristine clear blue air of the youth of Civilization in the Delta; the stone (or brick) of the buildings around gleaming with Pharaonic majesty. The pavements reflect like gold beneath, in Autumn time especially, and in whichever street is almost to be seen a Colossus made motive by the power of a string of Hebrew slaves. This even in the most nondescript thoroughfares of London, Belfast, Basildon – wherever, whenever - in daytime.

Night is a different matter…