OK, here's the thing. This book wasn't awful. For a philosophy book, it was actually reasonably well-written. Ayer is in love with commas, but he uses simple examples and tries to refrain from sounding like he's just swallowed a dictionary, so this book at least has the virtue of being somewhat accessible to the average reader.

I suspect I've given it a lower score than it deserves, but I just can't get past the subject matter. This aspect of philosophy (How do you know? How do you know that you know?) has always left me cold. I don't think I've an especially practical mindset but really, it's just so much mental masturbation. What is it FOR, for goodness sake? What earthly benefit does this sort of pondering give to anyone? Honestly, I've no patience for it.

I know, I know. I'm a Philistine at the coalface of philosophy, and I'm woefully under-rating. I don't care. It was okay. I found this book frustrating and difficult but I'm glad I read it. I just wouldn't do it again.