This books starts with Lord Byron's words - "Music is a strange thing" - and ends with Sir Thomas Beecham's barb - "If there is to be a chair for critics, I think it had better be an electric chair".
There are no chapters. It is a stream of consciousness, a book you can delve into from time to time or read from cover to cover, as the whim takes you. There are some superb line-drawings which help to break up the text.
An index might have made this book a research assistant for after-dinner speakers, though it would probably have doubled its length. As it stands, it's an excellent book for the bedside table - not for its soporific value, which is nil, but for its ability to give you a chuckle or a chortle each time you pick it up.
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