I've loosely refuted a home made theory of mine that it's difficult to revisit a novel and expect to be flushed once more with the satisfaction of that first ever read; Crime and Punishment proved that.

I remember the pleasure, and sometimes the sense of perplexity, (it is that type of book in places), when I first read it, which seemed mostly to be on northbound Piccadilly line trains by the way taking me between Manor House and Leicester Square.

A state of mind recaptured this time round. I have been unable to put it down. It's unlikely therefore that I'll leave it decades before I re-read it.