I have a much richer understanding of what it meant to live the life of a European intellectual between the wars, particularly a Jewish intellectual. Eiland details Benjamin's immersion in a café life of conversation, letters, the many journals devoted to narrow, esoteric interests. Truly, this was a singular time and I couldn‘t help longing for an opportunity to have that life. (But not the death - hopelessly fleeing the Gestapo in the Pyrenees).