Why on earth ever did (I wonder) Shaw
and Wells so much like Grayshott,
and Conan Doyle, at Hindhead, build ‘Undershaw’ –
when they might have got away, shot
of all those dark and dismal conifers,
those larches, spruces, pines, fishboney firs,

and gone on down Southwards, right on
to the clear sea and sun of Sussex
and the traditional naughtiness of Brighton,
architecture that calls as strongly as does sex?
Meanwhile, in Grayshott Post Office, sat Flora Thompson –
with enough literature to win New Statesman comps on!

Send Letters To:

The Editor
London Review of Books,
28 Little Russell Street
London, WC1A 2HN

letters@lrb.co.uk

Please include name, address, and a telephone number.

Read anywhere with the London Review of Books app, available now from the App Store for Apple devices, Google Play for Android devices and Amazon for your Kindle Fire.

Sign up to our newsletter

For highlights from the latest issue, our archive and the blog, as well as news, events and exclusive promotions.

Newsletter Preferences