Coincidence: reading le Carré at home this week, plus visited the exhibition Write Cut Rewrite at the Weston Library–which includes samples of his manuscripts, cut and pasted (literally: chunks cut with scissors and then taped together somewhere else). And then today I discovered this mysterious pile next to the books I ordered at the Bodleian.
Intrigue: is the fellow who picks up stuff next to me working on le Carré, having a super summer, or is there something else? (Then I sensed that someone was following me. I quickly turned back. But there were only shadows.)
