Holiday reading

I literally took a book bag to Cornwall with me - a whole large jute shopping bag full of books. I knew what I intended to read, but I have a horror of being far away from my books and finding that I can't get into anything I try. I think the book bag was heavier than my suitcase...

Anyway, what did I read? Certainly not everything I thought I would read. I had half a dozen Cornwall books with me, a couple of CC Vyvyans, a couple of Dennis Val Bakers, Frank Baker's The Call of Cornwall and a lovely book called Letters from Lamledra. Somehow being amid the real thing meant I didn't need or want to read about Cornwall, so most of the above were unopened, apart from Lamledra. This is the collected letters of Marjorie Williams, whose husband built a house, Lamledra, on the clifftop above Gorran Haven, near St Austell. She spent the summer months of the 1914-18 war years there with their children, while her husband continued with his work in London. The letters are mainly hers to him, but there are one or two of his, describing air raid precautions, etc.

The letters are a lovely mix of local Cornish life, Marjorie's observations of her garden (both flowers and vegetables) and the backdrop of the war (local boys being killed, injured, etc and the difficulty of getting sugar to make jam). It finishes with a section of her journal from the Second World War, by which time her husband had Parkinson's, and she was really writing for herself. A little gem of a book, which I would recommend to anyone who loves Cornwall or the war years.

Other books read during the week were as follows:

The Daughter of Time - Josephine Tey Started weeks ago and I'm afraid I got very confused despite the family trees. The sharp style kept me going however and I really will read it again one day and endeavour to keep up with the characters!
 Of Mice and Me - Steinbeck My younger son is studying this for English GCSE and I read it so that I could discuss it with him. I don't think I've read any Steinbeck before and was quite unprepared for the force of the narrative. He packs so much into those 97 pages and the ending, although I sensed something was coming, still had the power to shock. So many themes and such brilliant characterisation - I loved this and I'm so pleased my son is studying such a classic.
 Mad World - Paula Byrne I heard PB talk about this at this year's Bath Literature Festival and her bubbly enthusiasm is certainly present in her narrative. Described as a 'partial life' it traces Evelyn Waugh's early development as a novelist through his involvement with the house (Madresfield - 'Mad' - hence Mad World) and the Lygon family on whom he modelled Brideshead Revisited. Surprisingly scholarly for a popular biography, it's a rattling tale of bright young things and their inevitable downfall, with a much more congenial depiction of Waugh than we're used to - and that was what PB intended. If we ignore the repeated references to 'stately homes' which would have had Waugh grinding his teeth, this was a riveting read, with plenty of new material and the narrative pull of a novel. I was very pleased to have the time to read it straight through in a couple of sittings.
  Wait for Me - Deborah Devonshire Eagerly awaited and snapped up from Amazon as soon as it was out, this was ultimately a bit of a disappointment. I enjoyed her re-telling of the sisters' childhood and her debunking of some of the wilder myths, but there was a not-quite-believable detachment from the political extremism of her sisters. I suppose I don't quite understand how she could separate the women from their views - not that I felt she sympathised with either left wing Decca or right wing Diana and Unity, but something just didn't quite ring true for me. There were also long tedious passages from the times she accompanied Andrew, the D of D, on political trips to Africa, etc - most of which read like the regurgitating of official diaries. However, the tale came back to life with the Kennedy tragedies, and was also interesting on the subject of turning Chatsworth into a going concern financially. Her famous enthusiasm for Elvis, which I had previously thought originated in the 50s, turns out to be much more recent, and another part of the book which I thought was slightly contrived. However, the final sentence was a cracker - she looks back over a lifetime of 'watching other people work'. I'm sure the irony was quite unconscious, because she had genuinely described many of the estate workers and others who she was happy to live amongst, but as a one-liner to describe a life of privilege, this had it all!
  And finally...The Hours - Michael Cunningham Packed at the last minute and brought up the reading pile after seeing the film on television a few weeks ago, this was wonderful. I need to read it again and I also need to read Mrs Dalloway now! I felt I was only touching the surface of the way the three stories were interwoven but stood as separate tales within the whole. Beautiful, intelligent, literate writing, certainly one of my books of the year so far.

What did I buy in Cornwall?

One of the things I always try to fit into any trip, especially a week away, is a visit to the local secondhand bookshops. Last week I visited four, with rather mixed results.
I decided to drive to Cornwall via Honiton (well, not exactly via, as a small detour was needed). There are two old book shops in Honiton and I'd never tried either before. I went into the first and although there was quite a lot of stock, over more than one floor, much of it was in rather poor condition and there was a general air of tiredness. I don't intend to name the shop as anyone looking for something different may have found exactly what they wanted - so much of this is down to personal preference. Anyway, I did buy one book, a Penguin of HE Bates' 'A Moment in Time' for £2. I looked in at the window of the other shop and it seemed so similar (quiet and dusty-looking) that I didn't bother to go in - maybe my loss, but I guess I'll never know. I then had an excellent pot of tea and a cupcake at the very pretty Toast cafe and headed off to Truro, where the Cornwall Food Fair had begun earlier in the day.
 After tasting various delicious morsels on the stalls and talking to the man from Tregothnan (a Cornish estate which grows tea) I settled down to a good cup of Origin coffee (roasted in Cornwall) and a half-price smoked mackerel pasty from the Rick Stein stand. Then it was off to my next bookshop destination, Just Books in Pydar Mews. Now any bookshop that displays a Howard Spring first edition in its window has me on its side from the off and I wasn't disappointed. I bought a perfect edition of Paddy Leigh Fermor's The Traveller's Tree (in the same design as my copies of A Time of Gifts and Through the Woods and the Water) and a reprint of the green Penguin edition of Joephine Tey's The Franchise Affair - both bargains @ £1.50 each.

However, it was when I went upstairs to the biography section that I really struck gold, in that serendipitous way all collectors, however modest, are really on the lookout for. Looking very unassuming in a plainish dust wrapper was what turned out to be a first edition of the Hogarth Press printing of Virginia Woolf's biography of Roger Fry. Not in perfect condition (the dust jacket had pieces missing, although crucially the picture of RF on the front was intact) and under the dustcover, the book covers thenselves were very marked, either by light or water - probably the former. However, someone had thought to protect it in a good removable plastic jacket and there was an inscription inside from 1941, the year after publication. The shop obviously realised the book had some value as they had priced it at £10. Instinctively feeling this must be a bargain, I snapped it up and have since seen others on Amazon advertised for more than twice that. Not that I'm intending to sell, but it feels good to have got a bargain.

No more bookshops (but a great deal of reading - more of which in a subsequent post) until the return journey, when I called into Redruth. Poor Redruth, the less said the better, I think. It's as far away from the beauty of the creek as it's possible to get in one county and I didn't linger. The bookshop was rather sad, stock which looked as though it would take years to shift and poor lighting and front of shop display as well. So much can be done with lighting and it's surprising how few bother. To its credit though, it did have a large number of mid-20C novels, and I bought hardcover editions of Elizabeth Bowen's A World of Love and Monica Dickens' The Winds of Heaven - both @ £2.

I was heading for Launceston for lunch but before eating I went to the last bookshop of the trip, which was semi-hidden away up a passage. And what a revelation, good lighting, a friendly owner and marvellous stock. Hardly any chocolate box covers and a fantastic range of modern reprints of classic and modern classic authors. I had to restrain myself from venturing to the biography and history sections, as by the time I'd scanned the fiction stock, I'd already spent the best part of £20. Not cheap, £3.95 being the average fiction price, but certainly one to go on my list (along with the Truro one) of bookshops to visit every time I pass that way. I bought two Willa Cathers (My Antonia and A Lost Lady, both in Virago Modern Classics) Scapegallows, by Carol Birch, Beyond the Blue Mountains by Penelope Lively and Sharp Through the Hawthorns by Sybil Marshall.

All in all, a pretty satisfactory book-buying week.

Beautiful Cornwall

I spent last week in this tiny creekside cottage in Cornwall, enjoying the peace without internet access or a mobile signal.

The weather was pretty good apart from a couple of days and I spent long hours sitting on a rock beside the creek, reading, watching the wildlife, gently accustomising myself to a life dictated by the turn of the tide - and then it was all over and I had to leave the magic lands for the long trip home. I love Cornwall and know this corner of East Lizard pretty well - I've stayed in the cottage three times now and it's fantastic to hear the wind and the clatter of the yachts outside the door, along with the cry of gulls and curlews. The creek is full of waders including both ordinary grey herons and their rarer cousins, the white egrets (although they don't seem to be rare here). I saw bats fluttering in the dusk one evening (I mistook them for swallows until common sense reminded me swallows would have flown weeks ago!) and the highlight on a quiet morning along the creekside road was seeing not one, but a pair of kingfishers flying past. I can only recall seeing a kingfisher twice before in my life (and never a pair) and they usually dart past so fast you register the colour and think 'that must have been a kingfisher'. These two were flying slowly enough to be clearly recognisable and very beautiful they were too. The third picture is of the creekside road - usually deserted as it's not really on the way to anywhere in particular, but busier last week due to a road closure further inland.
I've returned with my batteries recharged and full of plans for the autumn. Out of context, I know, and slightly misquoted, but my feeling every time I visit this lovely place, is that 'it restoreth my soul'. For a non-believer, that's the nearest to spiritual I get!

Wait for Me and Book Barn visit.

Not much reading this week - tired at the end of each day and so could do no more than read a couple of pages of The Daughter of Time, which I will sit down and finish as soon as I've posted this. However, I've just been pottering about on Amazon and realised Debo Devonshire's newly published memoirs are on sale for £9 (publisher's price £20). So I did not resist (in fact I didn't try very hard) and they are now winging their way Bath-wards. As an online book group friend said about these only yesterday - 'Eekington Squeakington!!'

I paid a visit to the Book Barn on Monday afternoon after accompanying a friend to a hospital appointment in Bristol. My goodness, they're in a mess! They are apparently rearranging stock, but there were piles everywhere, it was sooo disorganised and all the Viragos had gone. I asked the two women on the till and they clearly didn't know what Viragos were, still less where they'd gone (sigh...). At least everything is currently £1, so I returned with eight books. But I suspect they're actually withdrawing all the decent stuff for internet sales and it would never surprise me to see the place shut to callers. Let's wait and see.

Taking cuttings

I've just taken half a dozen cuttings from the Cornish fuchsia I found at St Anthony in Meneage a few years ago. It's hardy and forms a good hedge there in the Cornish fashion, along the steps down to the churchyard. However, it's a much lusher type than the usual Cornish fuchsia. As this photo should show, the leaves are reddish, the stems very red and the flowers larger and more vivid, with a dark blue centre. The parent plant in Cornwall was heavily affected by last winter's deep frosts and I lost all but one of my own cuttings which were in the greenhouse. I'm aiming to cover a quite difficult area of my own garden with it, at the top of my front steps in a narrow poor-soil bed between the wall and my boundary fence.

I also took some cuttings from a fuchsia I 'borrowed' from Cadgwith last September. I was walking up the hill to the car park and saw a small, rather neglected looking fuchsia with unusual flowers. They were small and unshowy, but were two red colours - again the photo should make this clear (although I think it looks rather more pink than it should). There was one stem suitable for a cutting and I have to confess I decided to take it. It travelled all the way home in the top of a water bottle and it was touch and go through the winter as to how well it was rooting and growing. However, once I potted it on early in the Spring, it raced away and grew into a sturdy small potted specimen, covered in these delightful red flowers. I don't know whether it's hardy, so once I've increased my stock, I'll plant one out in the open ground next year and see how it does!

BBC archive and Daphne du Maurier

I've been fascinated in recent weeks by the three-part series the BBC has broadcast on 20th Century British novelists. Drawn from its extensive archive, it featured interviews with the great and the good of the inter-war years, the 50s and 60s and then the more recent period. The first episode featured the voice of Virginia Woolf (apparently there is no film archive of her), Somerset Maugham, GK Chesterton, Robert Graves, PG Wodehouse, Evelyn Waugh at his most outrageous and many others, leaving me literally squealing with delight! The second featured the  Angry Young Men et al, and the last one centred around the Booker Prize as its theme, with a very youthful (but ever disdainful) Martin Amis, Salman Rushdie, Ian McEwan, Angela Carter and so many more.

This all led me to the archive itself, where I discovered there are many full length original interviews, both with the authors I've mentioned and others who didn't make the cut for the three hour-long programmes. I've just spent a very happy hour watching a 1971 interview by Wilfred De'ath with Daphne du Maurier. Relaxed and natural, the programme followed her around her final home, Kilmarth (the dower house to Menabilly) along the cliffs to the sea in her daily walk and a view of Par harbour and into her writing room and comfortable sitting room. There they discussed the influence of her father Gerald, her solitude (she readily agreed to being a 'drop-out'), and her relationship with her husband Tommy. She took De'ath into the cellars where there were box after box of typescripts and the camera showed us the original of Rebecca, while she read the first few lines.

It's a quite wonderful programme, which I never knew existed (I was 11 at the time) and although I have the Cliff Mitchelmore interview, which can be bought from the du Maurier Centre in Fowey on DVD, this one is much better, and a rather more likeable Daphne emerges.

I anticipate many more happy hours exploring the archive, which you can find here.

Adam Sisman

Just back from seeing Adam Sisman talk about his Hugh Trevor-Roper biog at Topping's. Not such a big crowd as usual, but Robert was there to introduce him and there was a very animated and thorough Q&A session afterwards. I was particularly interested in Sisman because of his earlier biog of AJP Taylor, who was one of my heroes in the Sixth Form doing modern history A Level. The book is not cheap @ £25, so it's going on the wishlist to wait for the paperback.

And in other news...I raised £15 for the DEC Pakistan Flood appeal from selling cakes and plants at work this week.

Bank Holiday reading

Well, I seem to have got through the reading block - thanks to Elizabeth Jane Howard. She's long been a favourite of mine and I must have read the Cazalet series at least three times. I find her straightforward narrative style very comforting. I read her autobiography, 'Slipstream' last year and was surprised to find how much of her own life she put, only thinly disguised, into the Cazalets. Today's reading has been 'The Beautiful Visit', one of her earliest, published 60 years ago in 1950. Once I found my way in (bearing in mind yesterday's reading block) I was away and am now two thirds of the way through.
I found some memorable descriptions in the early chapters, for example 'a magnificent cedar tree like a butler, old, indispensable and gloomy'; 'curls of smoke the colour of distance'; 'the river gleamed like a wide snake asleep'. As the story progresses I'm warming more and more to the main character (no doubt EJH herself) who is struggling in the years of the First World War to establish her independence both as a person and as a woman.

And in the garden I've planted four more box plants, bought from the market on Saturday morning.

Reading block

Just can't settle to read at the moment. I've started about half a dozen books in the last week and just can't seem to find a way in. I'm a great believer in the time having to be right, so they'll go back on the tbr shelves until their time comes round again. Meanwhile, I'm making good use of the early morning lie-in by revamping this old blog, which never really got off the ground.