Finally, I have finished A Book of Silence by Sara Maitland. Why did I ever think that this book would appeal to me? I only read it because it seemed that a million other folk have done so and raved about it and I kept coming across quotes from it in other books and journals. Perhaps it was envy? Perhaps it was to see if I was missing some vital ingredient in this quest for silence that so many people find attractive. And those are the people who will enjoy this book much more than I did. I liked the personal bits – the bits of her story, of the 6 weeks she spent on Skye in complete silence and her finding a house where she could live permanently in a kind of semi-silence. But the other bits felt too much like a dissertation to me and I got a bit lost and bored.