[A] timely and powerful read. I suspect I won’t be the only one: This far beyond the looking glass, does anyone feel like they know their way home?.

Mead continues to zigzag through time by replaying her years starting out as a journalist in New York and tracing her parents' histories. Her non-linear approach never disorientates — rather, it invigorates, creating as it does a rich patchwork of overlapping ideas and recollections. Only occasionally are Mead's ruminations too ponderous for their own good.

A book is justified by its quality, not its subject. Home/Land...does not falter by virtue of belonging to the reviled species of memoir; rather, it flails because it is insufficiently interested in the external world. Despite its many arresting images and diverting anecdotes, it reads like a very smart person’s very well-written diary.

Her regrets? Her reliefs? These questions, and more, are asked and answered in penetrating detail by a writer who pans for gold and presents it many times, albeit in sentences that are long and somewhat convoluted.

Mead uses these explorations to fill in the interstices of her personal story with fascinating bits of London’s history, geography and culture...Mead doesn’t linger for long on any of these vignettes, her approach enjoyably episodic rather than exhaustive.

... at once deep and far-roaming.

Following the unexpected results of the 2016 presidential election, Mead moved with her husband and adolescent son from Brooklyn back to London, where she was born. Since she hadn’t lived in England for more than 30 years, the experience was a curious mix of homecoming and alienation, the distinct strands of which Mead disentangles with nuance and writerly sensitivity.

... vivid.