Read via Netgalley. This is the type of book that should be read will a beer in hand. I’ll admit that this isn’t necessary the type of book that I would pick up. Do I really want to read about a pub crawl of an over fifty year old? Well, Copenhagen, you say. That place on the cover looks familiar. So I tried it. Thankfully, I tried it. Don’t be put off by the bar crawl. There are plenty of bars and plenty of drinking in this novel masquerading as a travelogue. Or is it a travelogue masquerading as a novel? Kerrigan travels though the City of Copenhagen, accompanied at times by his associate, whom he desperately wants to see in red panties. (Don’t worry, he sees her as more than a lust object). The purpose for the travel is to catalog the various bars that a tourist might desire to visit. But what it really is, in many ways, is a kinder, more romantic, journey along the lines of Joyce. Like Joyce there are mediations on history and literature. The reader learns more than just about Kerrigan, the Associate, and Copenhagen. And while it harkens to Joyce, even with a side trip to Ireland, it is Danish to the core. There is a beautiful sense of place in the novel. It can function as a guide book, a more reader friendly guided book. Kennedy manages to convey Copenhagen though all the sense – the drinks at the bar are taste as is the food, sound is the Jazz music that floats throughout the novel, sight is the city itself, touch is not just the interaction between the Associate and Kerrigan but between Kerrigan and the books he carries, and smell is the air of the city as well as the distinct aromas of each district of the city. For it isn’t just Copenhagen and Tivoli that Kerrigan visits, it is the whole city. Except for the brewery, which I found somewhat disappointing because I wanted to know if they still gave the men one free beer and the women two. And it isn’t just drinking; it is the history of the city told though the drinks and the areas but also by memories of the central characters and the central historical figures. The book is not only a love poem to Copenhagen, but one to jazz and literature as well. A reader who has no interest in the Danish capital will find much to enjoy here as will a lover of jazz (and a lover of beer, come to think of it). Kerrigan is a lover of literature and music as well as drinks and it shows in his voice. What is more, he doesn’t endlessly explain what the passage or reference he is thinking of means. IT’s true there is some info dumping in the form of the Associate and her moleskin, but this is only early in the novel and Kennedy seems to grow comfortable with relating though stream of thinking as opposed to reading out of a book. And it is a love story - love of self, city, past, present, future, art, music – as well as the fear that such a love can raise in a person. The reader falls in love with Kerrigan without realizing it and when the climax happens, the reader is totally vested in the outcome. It’s not lust, it’s not puppy love; it’s the love of broken people. The only thing I would change in this book, and I read a galley so maybe this is fixed in the final edition – would be a map of the city showing the places, conveniently mentioned in bold in text, as well as listings for the music and drinks as well as the bibliography which is already present.I will be tracking down other work by this author.