Why I had to stop reading C.S. Lewis’s diary

I sat down recently to read C.S. Lewis’s diary. Lewis tells a good story – as if that needs saying. And All My Road Before Me: The Diary of C.S. Lewis, 1922–1927 offers the prospect of a deep dive into the period when he met Tolkien.

Five pages in, I had to put the book down.

Was I disgusted, disturbed, disappointed? Not at all.

I’d discovered that C.S. Lewis lived in my car park.