Emma Loffhagen’s article on declining sales of factual books seems to suggest that, in a time of gathering darkness, fiction offers escapism, while nonfiction grapples bleakly with the world as it is (Are we falling out of love with nonfiction?, 17 December). I believe that this is a false dichotomy. The best nonfiction, in my experience, gives as much aesthetic pleasure as a great novel or poetry collection; it can, too, provide consolation, wisdom and light.
Peter Ross
Glasgow
• Re Susan Treagus’s fear that she’s approaching the “not driving at night” stage (Letters, 17 December), the disappointment of not going out at night can be meaningfully replaced for Guardian readers by staying at home and browsing through whatever, in earlier life stages, they’ve collected in their 35mm film canisters.
Lynn Fotheringham
Over Kellet, Lancashire
• When asked “how are you?” (Letters, 17 December), my reply is “ticking over, thank you”, the implication being that I am stationary – not dead, but not moving forward either.
Irene Jones
Broxted, Essex
• Why are Jeffrey Epstein and his “friends” (Report, 18 December) never referred to as a white grooming gang?
Judy Harrington
London
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