My imagination holds a place for somewhere evocative of the Scriptorium. My Uncle Bob, an orchardist on the Hawkesbury River, maintained a garden shed full of books with a covering of fairy dust, or so it seemed in my boyhood. I approached it as a magic place. Pip Williams’ book evinced this same infusion: wordsContinue reading “On Reading Pip Williams’ “The Dictionary of Lost Words” (Affirm Press, 2020)”