I appreciate the effort Francis Spufford put into to describing all the psychological reasons behind reading anything from picture books to porn literature. He analysed his reading from the moment he learnt to read until his late teenage years.
It was an interesting perspective, though I think sometimes a bit far fetched. I wish there was more memoir in this memoir and less of showing off Spufford's erudition. Even though it was interesting most of the time, I felt like it was random and going nowhere too often.
But I throw in a star for the fact the author lives (or used to live when the book was published) in Camberwell. Camberwell, London seems to be the home of quite a few almost decent writers.