Paris 1919 --- by --- Margaret Macmillan.
Ordinarily I am a frequent reader of history. Ordinarily it doesn’t matter if the history is Roman, medieval, or modern. I even read historical fiction with great delight. Ordinarily, once a work of history gets its talons into me I don’t stop until the entire book has been devoured. Ordinarily. But not so with this book. It barely passed the 50 test. In my opinion, this book progressed much too slowly, concerned itself with such a level of detail as to border on tedium. Ordinarily I wouldn’t abandon a book like this. Ordinarily.