Here's one way to review a memoir of book-collecting and book-dealing: call it "more like a finger exercise than a sonata" (undoubtedly true) and then ignore it in favor of reminiscing about McMurtry's fiction. Is it possible to write a great book on collecting? McMurtry pointedly says in "Books" that he eschewed "fishing tales" about how he found this or that volume; personally, I could have done with a little more of that element.
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