Lesley-Ann Jones
The Stone Age is only about the gossip, to the point where even when something (potentially) true comes along, it still reads like trash.
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In her search for John Lennon, the author follows her fancy and picks and chooses which rocks she wants to look under, all the while giving herself the space to wax poetic on whatever theme moves her. It’s an appealing approach. Too bad then that the book is a let down.
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