Original take: A fascinating book bogged down in some bad copyediting.
Full length take: after a bit of a pause, clearly we went straight back to reading some dense wordy British stuff, this time on a topic that I’m sure most people know nothing about (and, as such, a more fruitful line of study I think—nothing better to show off your edumacated chops than pontificating on a niche area and subtly suggesting that you also happen to know about all the other, more quotidian affairs).
The main gist of this book, as the subtitle suggests, is an exhaustively researched history of how public land has been steadily chipped away and sold to the highest bidder over time. That makes for some dry reading, I will say, even with the addition of the thrust of the book, which is that This is Bad. You might think, “well of course it’s bad to sell off beautiful green land owned by the National Parks Service (or whatever the equivalent is)” but that’s not the point here, and some of my frustration with this book comes with how buried this point is.
To be honest, I’m not sure I’m even capable of summarizing the evidence behind the point but trust me when I say that Christophers make a compelling case for why the land underneath our feet, even in urban areas, represents a far greater value than the buildings on top of it (which, as per my property tax records even, is seen as the driver of value for my flat). And as such, the paltry ownership of land by public sources in the UK is partially responsible for the decline of the once great empire economy.
If you can get on board with that idea—and again, this book could really have used a copyeditor used to dealing with academics (why, oh why do we hear about land parcels in any one of sixteen different units, none of which are readily imaginable by the lay reader)—then the rest of the novel, which lays out the means by which various public trusts have been stripped of their holdings by a series of Labour and Tory governments, should appeal without being too shocking.