Idiosyncratic architectural guide to the capital, in which the excellently opinionated, self-taught Nairn takes the reader on a tour of the notable landmarks, in his eyes, in 1960s London. Descriptions of styles in suburban pubs rub shoulders with churches and the odd stately home and town centre. Nairn often doesn’t make an awful lot of sense, but there’s a real drive throughout the book, which has more than its fair share of jaw-dropping, satisfying and otherwise memorable moments, most notably when the writer is inclined to more pronounced displays of either joy or disdain.