Hardly the perfect conditions, you might think, in which to make sense of a highly complex theoretical text. Ah, but reading – as Speyer tells us – is a funny old thing. There is the book, there are your eyes following the line of words on the book, and there is your mind, perched on high like an eagle on a rock, trying to make sense of the landscape below. Some days the eagle catches a juicy mouse of wisdom, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes the words just pass before your eyes. Yes, reading is a peculiar process. You can’t second-guess reading. You lay out your traps and your cages, but you never know which of them, if any, will take. Which is why, as Speyer never fails to remind us, you have to mix it up.