The Friends of "Best of Enemies"

Best of Enemies is a triumph. I can't say any more about it at the risk of letting cats out of bags.

If I had one criticism it was, for all that it was skillfully done, there was too much exposition. It has dawned on me this morning that I did get stuck into what was called the "New Journalism" at an early age and drank deeply from, off my head and in no particular order Truman Capote, Joan Didion, Hunter S. Thompson, Tom Wolfe, Gay Talese and Norman Mailer. Mailer's "Miami and the Siege of Chicago" was a particular touchstone last night. There's a battered hardback copy on PG's bookshelves as I recall.

Speak memory: to get home from school I had to get two buses, on from Llanrumney into town and then another from town to Rhiwbina. In town, I could pop into Lear's, Cardiff's main bookshop, and pick up imported Bantam paperbacks of books by the sort of authors name-checked in the previous paragraph. The seemed impossibly glamorous to me at the time because they had occasional glossy pages of adverts bound into them. These days I would probably compare them to my Folio Society editions and find them wanting.