Anyone who persists in the notion that non-fiction can't be as page-turning as fiction should read this utterly marvellous work of family history. Eighteen years in the researching and writing, it was sparked when Guardian columnist Freeman found a shoebox at the back of her late grandmother Sala's wardrobe, containing her most treasured belongings. In a bid to understand the significance of its contents, Freeman began to delve into the lives of Sala and her brothers, Henri, Jacques and Alex Glass. Born into a Jewish family in Poland in the early years of the 20th century, they fled the violent pogroms that followed the First World War and settled in Paris; only to be pitched into a fresh nightmare after the Nazis invaded France in 1940. The heroic trajectories of the four siblings from that time onwards, across Europe and the US, make astonishing, incredibly moving reading. From the moment I began it, I could not put this superb book down; it's a triumph of research, of accomplished and pacy writing, and of thoughtful analysis of what it means to be Jewish today. It's also impossible to read it without shuddering at some of the echoes of the past we hear in extremist politics today. House of Glass is the kind of book you'll gladly stay put a whole weekend for... that is exactly what I did.