This is the book that I wanted to write.

Like those books that tackle one subject thoroughly, and thereby pull in all of history – the potato, the pencil, Cod – Attlee has described the street in which he lives – a down at heel main artery into the cloistered city centre of Oxford – Cowley Road. He has explored the people who inhabit this street, their stories, tales and religions. Plus the story of the street itself – its history and changing fortunes.

My philosophy on travel and exploration is that rather than traveling we should learn about the 100 metres square, or perhaps less, where we live or work. As Attlee found in his wanderings, very often the world comes to you in the form of migrant communities and exotic practices. Not only this but once upon a time those square metres were home to Victorians, Farmers, Invalids, Anglo Saxons, Dinosaurs  and more. Under our noses and our feet is a whole world. Traveling is great, mind expanding even, but so are the things that happen in our neighborhood.

Attlee terms this book as his pilgrimage, akin to Muslims traveling to Mecca or Catholics to Lourdes. As such the prose has that almost religious undertone. The other major influence on the book is Robert Burton’s The Anatomy of Melancholy. This influences the language, the rather odd title and even the design of the chapters and words. It is this aspiration to be like an eighteenth century monologue that is strangely intriguing. It allows Attlee’s clearly impressive learning to shine through – mixing the works of all sorts of ancient philosophers with discussions on a themed bar, for example. But it’s the folk that Attlee meets on his journey that really stand out – we should all get out of our houses and do the same.

In many ways this book is a more cheerful, less circular version of Iain Sinclair. Psychogeography is never mentioned but Sinclair too has grasped the fact that in studying all aspects of a specific area everything, maddeningly, becomes connected.

Perhaps the more interesting yet most journalistic pieces are when Attlee becomes involved in local planning activities. And here is where he leaves Sinclair behind by getting stuck into the community. The machinations of local government seem surprising but actually quite open. This is the happy ending of the Isolarion.

The bad points of this book are actually quite many, but this should not deter you. Photos and a map would have brought things to life – as someone who has only visited Oxford once I needed this extra push. Photos of the locations and the people would have set the scene and given more of a lock to things. Often the cut up nature of the stories is a bit random and can feel a bit like a journalist on an assignment. The influence of Burton and the scholarly feel to things is great on the inside, yet the cover is really a let down. Here at Bookgeeks we have a Tumblr account for choosing the books we review. Isolarion stayed on there a while – I suspect because the cover (and perhaps the title) did not excite us or give a clue what the book was about. Knowing the other reviewers this book would be snapped up by at least a few of us. I suspect this is true of the general public too – more of whom should read this book.

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