Lawrence Durrell was a traveler. Born in India in 1912 and ending his days in his adopted home of France in 1990, Durrell spent time in numerous countries. The irony is that he hated all these habitual changes. Throughout his life, Durrell lamented to friends about the taxing and disruptive nature of these movements. Fortunately, these journeys provided material for an enormous variety of minor publications, many of which focus on the places and people he encountered. Editor Richard Pine has scoured the world in search of these rarities, a search culminating in the two-volume Lawrence Durrell's Endpapers and Inklings 1933–1988. In these volumes, Pine demonstrates an appreciation of Durrell's interests and his sense of insight into the importance of place. The two books function well together, yet readers will find value in either volume, as Pine's agglomeration does not require sequential reading. Within its covers, Lawrence Durrell's Endpapers and Inklings contains engaging opinions and thoughts about the world, comprehensively revealing Durrell's multivarious perspectives.

Those familiar with Durrell's works may wonder how Pine's effort differs from those of James Gifford, who edited assorted writings in From the Elephant's Back: Collected Essays and Travel Writing (2015). Pine strategically avoids recasting this earlier publication, focusing instead on little-known and hard-to-locate items. In some cases, the pieces are only a few paragraphs. Collectively, each element adds an additional sliver to Durrell's overarching views of his world. Pine deftly divides the contents into nine sections across the two volumes; in the introduction, he provides a systematic and convincing argument for this structure. Particularly satisfying are the shorter prefaces to each section, complemented by diminutive explanations and informative footnotes for many of the individual texts. Pine's knowledge of Durrell's history and his connection with other Durrell scholars are demonstrated throughout his remarks.

An ever-present preoccupation in Durrell's writing concerns place. He published several book-length treatises on this topic, and his novels thrive on the characteristics of their settings. It is not surprising, then, that many parts of this collection are integrally involved with place and, in some cases, the political environment therein. A reoccurring theme in biographical efforts to unveil Durrell's history has centered on his birth in India and subsequent removal during adolescence for further education in England. Various selections in Lawrence Durrell's Endpapers and Inklings only further the significance of this event, as Durrell occasionally recalls being transplanted during his childhood years.

Complementing Durrell's movements across the globe were the various individuals he encountered. As his literary stature grew, Durrell was increasingly requested to provide prefaces, write opinion essays, and express his thoughts on the literary process. Pine also incorporates several creative pieces by Durrell that are assuredly important for an understanding of the development of his ideas as an artist (notably, there is no poetry). I found that the majority of creative selections pale in comparison to the introductions, reviews, and letters incorporated. However, researchers of genetic criticism will undoubtedly benefit from the inclusions of the rare Durrell materials. Included are incomplete drafts and sketches, some previously unpublished, and almost all of which will be new to those interested in Durrell.

Critical for this publication is the extensive use of archival materials. Pine's connection with libraries and individuals worldwide who hold original Durrell material helped produced this thorough and expansive compilation. Along with his thoughts on place, Durrell wrote on persons he admired or with whom he felt a mutual attraction. Noticeable is the number of photographers and painters whose work Durrell respected. His well-known friendship with Henry Miller warrants its own section, as Durrell composed several pieces throughout their nearly forty-five years of comradery. Pine purposefully leaves out certain texts. These include versions of the screenplay for Cleopatra (1963) and the preface to Anaïs Nin's Children of the Albatross (1947), which created a rift in the Durrell-Nin friendship. It is just as well that Pine chooses to exclude the preface, as he and Paul Herron incorporated it into Letters to Lawrence Durrell 1937–1977 (2020). Certainly not to be taken lightly are the few cringe-worthy essays by Durrell concerning his archaic views on women and relationships, particularly noticeable in the introduction for Annabelle d'Huart and Nadia Tazi's Harems (1980).

Together, the two volumes reveal much about Durrell's mindscape, proving to be an essential addition to Durrellian studies regarding the people and places on which he wrote. As Pine notes, Durrell held a lasting interest in “the relation of eastern to western philosophies, the nature of time, and the nature of dreams” (2:270), and the collection demonstrates the impact of Taoism and Buddhism on Durrell. I end by altering Durrell's own words in one of his book reviews, as I believe he would have enjoyed Pine's compilation of his expansive, revealing inklings: “there are many books about [Durrell], but only three or four can lay claim to a comprehensiveness which lifts them out of the category of the ephemeral, the purely journalistic, and this is certainly one” (2:283). Durrell's life was expansive, and he documented his trajectory in a variety of settings; the compilation of these minor writings, matched with the fine editing by Pine, provides a rejuvenating literary self-portrait of Durrell's prolific artistry.