I enjoyed this. Nick Hornby reminds me a bit of a male Sophie Kinsella in the way he is able to get into the head of one of the protagonists, British-and-proper-but-not-wanting-to-be-so-much, Annie. There is her boyfriend, Duncan, who is obsessed with an obscure and isolationist rocker, Tucker Crowe. There is Tucker Crowe, whose low self-worth and self-expectations almost prompted a review of two stars instead of three. And, there is Tucker’s son, who is delightful and the glue and comic-relief of many of the story’s interactions. Nick Hornby is perfectly adept at capturing human nature, not just of male music-obsessives but, capably, of women and children, too. And, with this book, he asks an important question: “What do you do when you discover that you’ve wasted large quantities of your life?” But, it is the use of language – the love of it, really – and the prominence of my favorite author, Charles Dickens in the storyline, which made this a book to finish (even though the ending felt like loose-ends were trying hastily to be tied-up) and…enjoy.