Over Bemerton's An easy-going chronicle

E. V. Lucas’s narrative in Over Bemerton’s: An Easy‑Going Chronicle welcomes the listener into a gentle, book‑laden London world — one where quiet rooms above a second‑hand bookshop become a haven of books, memories, friendships, and subtle reflections on life. As you hear the voice narrating, you are drawn into the slow, unhurried rhythm of everyday existence: a returnee named Kent Falconer settling above :contentReference the eccentric charm of its owner and landlady, the motley of characters he meets — from an opinionated stepsister to a caustic journalist, from book‑lover bibliophiles to music‑hall entertainers.

The charm of this book lies in its celebration of the ordinary and the overlooked: the dusty shelves of rare tomes, midnight reading sessions by lamplight, chance meetings with strangers who become friends, the gentle humour and philosophical asides — all stitched together not by dramatic plot twists, but by the quiet, irresistible magnetism of human connection and the love of books. With a warm, conversational tone, Lucas allows us to linger over small moments: the purchase of a rare Chinese biographical dictionary, the rustle of old pages, the soft clatter of hansom‑cabs in changing London streets, the complexity of relationships that grow in a shared stairwell and over shared books.

Listening to this chronicle, one is reminded that life’s greatest pleasures need not come from high drama or grand adventures — often, they reside in the simple sanctuary of a bookshop’s attic, in the companionship of good‑humoured friends, and in the soft light of evening as one leafs through a beloved volume. This book is a tribute to serenity, to literary nostalgia, and to the small, weaving links that bind ordinary lives into a quietly beautiful tapestry.