Bed-side Table

I've just noticed that I have an incredibly weird and varied selection of books on my bed-side table. In fact, they're all in danger of falling off/having water spilt on them/being lost forever behind my bed.

'1599: A Year in the Life of William Shakespeare' by James Shapiro.

'The Line of Beauty' by Alan Hollinghurst.

'The Book of Other People' edited by Zadie Smith.

'The Virago Book of Women Travellers' edited by Mary Morris with Larry O'Connor.

'From Hell' by Alan Moore and Eddie Campbell

'Detective Fiction and the Rise of Forensic Science' by Ronald R. Thomas.

Admittedly, the last one isn't entirely for pleasure. It's for my dissertation (which is about Wilkie Collins and 'The Woman in White'). But it's pretty bloody fascinating all the same.

Two of the books aren't mine, they're on loan from Mat and Patrick.

Three of the books were presents.

And one is a library book.

Also on my bed-side table, entirely unrelated to literature: empty pint glass, multi-vitamins, tissues, lip balm, headphones, and the design from a birthday cake that my wonderful friend Kirsty made for me last year-it was a 'Wicked!' cake, inspired by my slight obsession with that musical. There's a box of paracetemol as well, as I've been battling the UEA plague. And I am TOTALLY WINNING. Sort of.

'Emotionally Weird' by Kate Atkinson

I absolutely love Kate Atkinson's writing. I have done ever since I read this book, after which I set about locating and reading everything she had ever published and devouring each book with almost indecent enthusiasm. She is just brilliant! If you haven't read anything by her then please do, she is probably the only author that has made me laugh out loud whilst reading. Her books are so carefully plotted that it's like following a piece of string to find out what is at the end, and so full of mysteries, dark secrets and connected characters that it's physically impossible to put the books down. Her latest novel, 'When Will There Be Good News?' kept me reading until the very early hours of the morning for a week over the summer. She somehow manages to take some of the darkest aspects of life-death, loss, deceit, grief-and twist them so that tiny glimmers of hope and humour may be extracted from them.

Although I have enjoyed all of her books, 'Emotionally Weird' is most definitely my favourite. It was my first experience of her writing and I also felt a kinship with the novel's heroine, Effie, who is studying English Literature at the University of Dundee (even though I wasn't at university or had plans to study the subject when I read it!). The novel's multiple narratives, deadpan humour and curiously philosophical tone just sucked me in and spat me out a changed reader.

I began re-reading it again recently and it resonates more strongly than ever, now that I'm at university and studying the same subject as Effie. The descriptions of seminars, essay deadlines and lecturers are now eerily familiar and amusingly accurate.

The novel is made up of the stories told by Effie and her mother, Nora, on a rugged island off the coast of Scotland, and their various narratives intertwine to create a tale which has more twists and turns than a country lane in Devon (and believe me, that's a fair few). At the beginning of the novel Atkinson includes an extract from 'Through the Looking-Glass' by Lewis Carroll, and there's definitely an influence here, with the dream-like quality and surreal characters and locations.

This won't be the last post about Kate Atkinson I'm afraid, as there is simply too much to say about her writing. I met her a couple of years ago, after a talk that she gave at a literary festival. My mum and I queued up afterwards to get my books signed, and I swear I have never behaved so idiotically in my life. I went all red and flustered and was hopelessly star-struck and could barely utter any of the sycophantic words I had been planning so feverishly in my head. She asked me my name and I managed to croak out a reply, after which she said (very kindly overlooking my slightly gibbering state), 'Oh, what a lovely name! I very nearly called my daughter that. You must love it, it's so unusual', which obviously tipped me over the edge and I had to be led away by my mum, nearly hyperventilating. THAT is how much I love this woman, people. READ HER!

One for a wet Wednesday

Another poem from the anthology that I mentioned on Sunday, by Stephen Dunn.

Happiness.

A state you must dare not enter
with hopes of staying,
quicksand in the marshes, and all

the roads leading to a castle
that doesn't exist.
But there it is, as promised,

with its perfect bridge above
the crocodiles,
and its doors forever open.

I love the idea that it's the hope for happiness, and seeing it ahead of you, that is somehow happiness itself. It isn't a constant thing, but it's always there, ready to be inhabited. How lovely!

Here is quote that I found today, from Ted Hughes: "Poetry is the voice of spirit and imagination and all that is potential, as well as of the healing benevolence that used to be the privilege of the gods."

"The Listeners" by Walter de la Mare

I first discovered this poem in primary school, when I was about ten years old. It was part of a reading comprehension exercise, where we were required to read the poem and then discuss it in a group. I don't quite know why, but something made me fall in love with it, and it's remained with me ever since. I actually still have the copy from my primary school work, which I tore out years ago, and it's been stuck on a wall wherever I happen to be living. It's above my desk right now, and it's oddly comforting to see it.

I think what attracted me was the sense of mystery within the poem; there's a story behind it, I love the language and the idea of a traveller returning home to find everything changed. The thought of the 'phantom listeners' always made makes look around extra warily if I find myself alone in a house. There's a unsettling, fairy-tale quality to the poem-it makes me think of 'Hansel and Gretel' and 'Little Red Riding-Hood', with the creepy forest and overgrown cottage.

I particularly love the last two lines: 'And how the silence surged softly backward,/ When the plunging hooves were gone'. The thought of silence 'surging' back to fill a space is so brilliantly creepy.

Anyway, here it is for a read. I like it so much that I'm going to painstakingly type it out by hand so I can remind myself of why I think it's so darn brilliant.

The Listeners.

'Is there anybody there?' said the Traveller,
Knocking on the moonlit door;
And his horse in the silence champed the grasses
Of the forest's ferny floor:
And a bird flew up out of the turret,
Above the Traveller's head
And he smote upon the door again a second time;
'Is there anybody there?' he said.
But no one descended to the Traveller;
No head from the leaf-fringed sill
Leaned over and looked into his grey eyes,
Where he stood perplexed and still.
But only a host of phantom listeners
That dwelt in the lone house then
Stood listening in the quiet of the moonlight
To that voice from the world of men:
Stood thronging the faint moonbeams on the dark stair,
That goes down to the empty hall,
Hearkening in an air stirred and shaken
By the lonely Traveller's call.
And he felt in his heart their strangeness,
Their stillness answering his cry,
While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf,
'Neath the starred and leafy sky;
For he suddenly smote on the door, even
Louder, and lifted his head:-
'Tell them I came, and no one answered,
That I kept my word,' he said.
Never the least stir made the listeners,
Though every word he spake
Fell echoing through the shadowiness of the still house
From the one man left awake:
Ay, they heard his foot upon the stirrup,
And the sound of iron on stone,
And how the silence surged softly backward,
When the plunging hoofs were gone.

penguins

"What's in a name?"

The name comes from my love for second-hand books, and the idea that they are just waiting to be rescued, and loved by someone else. I have more books from charity shops than I know what to do with, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Second-hand book of the moment: 'Staying Alive-Real Poems for Unreal Times', edited by Neil Astley, published by Bloodaxe Books.

I found this at the aforementioned Way with Words festival, in a box, under a table. I let out an incredulous gasp as I saw it, because I'd been sighing over a glossy copy in Waterstone's only the week before and yet here it was, only slightly thumbed, waiting to be 'rescued'! It's an amazing anthology, with poems for every time of life-sections include 'Man and beast', 'Growing up', and 'In and out of love'. It's the kind of book that I like to have on my bed-side table, so that I can dip in and out of it whenever I don't feel like getting into a novel.

I've picked out my current favourite poem, although this does change almost daily. It's by Denise Levertov.

Variation on a Theme by Rilke
(The Book of Hours, Book 1, Poem 1, Stanza 1)

A certain day became a presence to me;
there it was, confronting me-a sky, air, light:
a being. And before it started to descend
from the height of noon, it leaned over
and struck my shoulder as if with
the flat of a sword, granting me
honour and a task. The day's blow
rang out, metallic or it was I, a bell awakened,
and what I heard was my whole self
saying and singing what it knew: I can.

"Books are a uniquely portable magic"

Hello! Welcome to my brand new, shiny blog!
My amazing friend Grace has set all this up for me. She has given me the push I needed to get this started, as I've been babbling on about setting this up since the summer, when I went to the Way with Words festival at Dartington Hall, Devon and met the lovely Lynne from dovegreyreader. I wrote a short review of a talk given by Roy Hattersley for her blog, so the seed of an idea was sown-and it's taken this long for me (or rather, Grace) to get my act together.
I hope to be able to use this blog to explore my own, and others, love for literature and bookshops. Living in Norwich and Devon means that I have a huge amount of lovely literary establishments at my disposal, and I'd like to share them with other like-minded people. I've read so many wonderful blogs, and I love hearing about peoples' discoveries and reading tastes-this seems the perfect way to join in!
I hope you enjoy reading my rambling thoughts on all things bookish, I'm not sure if anyone will be interested but I'm quite excited! I hope I can also get some other folks to contribute, as I am lucky enough to know many talented people. I might post some nice pictures of things like cups of tea, and dancing, and cathedrals, and scarves sometimes too, won't that be marvellous?
Please bear with me as I get to grips with this strange new world!

testing testing.....