I’m halfway through and I’m loving it. It presumably made its way into my household because of the title (when you move to Africa you accumulate lots of books about Africa), but it has really very little to do with Kilimanjaro, besides the opening chapter which is a spacey-ethereal-dying-dream sequence. The rest is semi-autobiographical and flits around between rural America and war-time Europe. Great writing. The kind that makes you want to write.