Living Magic is a most unusual book, and yet it should not be. As its subtitle says, it is a book entirely entrenched in and geared towards magical practice. Specifically, it breathes the kind of magic that does not walk cloaked in centuries of tradition, in garments of cryptic symbols and dead languages, peacock-like strutting out in leather-binding and emblazoned in claims of ancient lineages. Instead Living Magic is epitomising the kind of magic that nakedly stares you in the face and bluntly punches you in the stomach.