One of the most beautiful books ever?

It's quite a grand claim for any book, but Jean-Dominique Bauby's account of life with "Locked-in Syndrome" is surely worthy. Bauby, once Editor in Chief of French Elle, suffered a massive stroke - something which, until recently, was unequivocably fatal. But, as Bauby puts it, "improved resusitation techniques have now prolonged and refined the agony". It's one of the few bitter moments of this staggering book.

Staggering first for the method of its writing: almost entirely paralysed, Bauby dictated the book with his one mobile muscle: his left eyelid. All day he would compose, edit and memorise the chapters in his head. Then, when his "publisher's emissary" turned up, he or she would point to letters of the alphabet. Bauby would wink at the right letter, building words character by character; sentences word by word; paragraphs sentence by sentence.

Perhaps even more staggering is what Bauby chose to talk about from within the immobile "diving bell" of his body. For although he doesn't shy from expressing his frustration, the still free "butterfly" of his mind takes us to many more positive places than we have any right to expect.

And throughout, you can't help but be conscious of the effort - of memory, patience and sheer will - behind every word. The book opens with this sentence:

"Through the frayed curtain at my window a wan glow announces the break of day."

Reading it, you know how important it must have been that we know the curtain was frayed. These are the details he wants in his picture: wants enough to blink his way through them, when "the curtain" would, for many, have done just as well.

There must be a million books out there claiming themselves, glibly, as 'testament to the power of the human spirit' or some such. Here is one that genuinely deserves that sort of accolade. If you'd like to read it, click the cover and go straight to the relevant page on Amazon.co.uk