People, they say, want different things from a book over the summer than they do the rest of the year. If, by chance, you are looking for a book that will both give you a hernia and teach you how to make a bridge disappear, this could be just the thing for you.
The motorbike messenger who delivered my copy of Magic had to come in for a glass of water and complained that the effort of carrying it had made his legs bowed. It is, quite simply, the largest book I have ever tried to read — the literary equivalent of the Great Bed of Ware.
So what’s inside it? An awful lot of pictures, beautifully reproduced, interspersed with essays on the history of magic. Handily, these come in English, French and German, in case you want to get some European pals round for a simultaneous reading — there’s plenty of room for everyone.
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