I’m a self-confessed Anglophile. I’m sure I have a somewhat romanticized sense of the country, due in large part to my affinity for stories set in England. But when I first heard about The Lambs of London in a recent Bookmarks issue, I knew I had to read it. And luckily for me, my new local library had a copy on their ‘New Fiction’ shelf.

Ackroyd has taken the brother-sister duo responsible for Tales from Shakespeare and the true incident of a Shakespearian forgery and fictionalized them into a tale of life and literary mania in Regency England. Mary Lamb strikes up a friendship with William Henry Ireland, after Ireland claims to have discovered several documents belonging to Shakespeare, including a play entitled Vortigern. The unveiling of these literary artifacts creates a frenzy in London society, with people flocking to Ireland’s bookshop and even leading to a performance of the play at Drury Lane. While the reader knows all along that Ireland is lying, the reasons behind it and the furor the forgeries create along with the insight into various lifestyles of the period made for a delightful read.

Interestingly, when I did a search for Ireland to link to his name, I discovered that a couple years ago there was talk of Neil Gaiman writing and directing a film based on his life – time will tell if that ever comes to fruition.