I know I should be talking about the sharp political commentary here, and I'll get to it. But there is a part of one of these essays where Coates describes the awkwardness, fear and anticipation of deciding to sit in a foreign cafe that felt so exquisitely, sharply true that I heard myself do one of those bracing gasps. Coates is one of those writers I always feel intensely connected to, as if we are in some kind of dialogue based things others don't get. I am experienced enough to know that this is the way those writers feel to, if not most people, then at least many of them. They have some capacity to conjure intimacy, which makes the political writing ever that much more powerful (and must make dealing with fans a real pain).
But this collection is less directly personal that Coates other non-fiction. Here he tackles book bans and the polarisation of the USA, slavery and Africa and, in an essay comprising half the text, Palestine. The latter is based on his ten-day visit, in which he struggles to reconcile what he sees with his previously more positive view of Israel. It is thoughtful, and angry, and worth a read, like the rest of the collection.