Now that the evenings are most definitely dark all I want to do is hibernate. By which I mean light the fire, light the candles and curl up with hot chocolate and a book. Or sometimes a nice cosy film.
Of course, that isn’t actually an option but I do manage to get a good number of cosy evenings which most definitely help. I have brought my copy of Imagining Anne – the book of L M Montgomery’s scrapbooks from Prince Edward Island – back down to the living room and am devouring it by candlelight as it should be read.
It just wasn’t getting read upstairs (it’s a bit big for bedtime reading!) and that was making me very sad as it is a gorgeous book which I really did want to read. The pages from the scrapbooks are beautiful and absorbing and I lose myself in them.
The lesson for this week is clearly not to take coffee table type books away from coffee tables!
It turns out that, although the autumn has made me crave some more serious reading, I am not able to read just the weightier books. Over the past few days I have been reading A Gossip’s Story by Jane West and at the same time listening to Rebecca. Neither of them are particularly difficult reading but when I finished Rebecca I had to immediately start something much lighter – the latest in the Needlecraft Mystery series by Monica Ferris was exactly the palette cleanser I needed.
I am very much enjoying A Gossip’s Story – which I have been wanting to read for years because of the idea that it may have helped inspire Sense and Sensibility. However, as with many eighteenth century novels, it is interspersed with long (33 pages) sections of poetry which do not advance the plot and do not always hold my interest. I appreciated the fact that the author said it was easy to see where the narrative resumed so I could skip the poem but I am definitely a completionist and I couldn’t bear to do that. Therefore, on my day off – when I really needed to be sucked into a story – I picked up another cosy crime book – this one the next (for me) in V M Burns’ Mystery Bookshop series.
This series is a lot of fun and – although I find some aspects of the sections which are from a 1938 cosy crime book set in England a little grating – I keep being brought back for more. I only have one more book to go before I catch up with the author now!
All of which goes to show that it is very important – at least for me – to have a variety of books on the go. I am such a mood reader that I never know what I will want from one day to the next!
The mornings and evenings have now got an unmistakable feeling of autumn about them. In fact, I found it quite alarming how late the sun rose this morning. We are still having some gorgeous weather but there is no question that autumn is fast approaching.
This time of year always makes me hanker after learning again – last year I spent several weeks studying Latin and even did some calculus. My post it notes are still stuck up in the bathroom but I can’t honestly say that I have done any work with them for quite some time. Life gets in the way!
This year I need to resist that urge. I have far too much work to do on my stationery to have any time to spare pretending to be a student again. However, I will try to use that feeling in my reading. I own so many classic books that have been languishing on my shelves for years and now may be the time to get through at least a few of them. A Gossip’s Story is right at the top of my list and maybe I’ll finally, finally get around to Rebecca. I have just finished listening to The Hunchback of Notre Dame which I bought about fifteen years ago. It was very good to cross that one off the list.
The most recent book I have started though is not strictly speaking a classic – although it was published in 1912. A Fourth Form Friendship is the first Angela Brazil I have read – surprising given my love of school stories. I can tell it won’t be my last though!
Do you write in your books? I like to underline phrases that jump out an me – quotes I want to remember. I also love to find other people’s notes and underlinings in second hand books. What I especially love though are the inscriptions at the front of the books. Books showing my own history are wonderful – I was too young to remember my first visit to Tintagel but I have an excellent set of books to remind me of the trip. Or there is the book of Wordsworth’s poems which my Grandmother won in a potato race in 1924. We never got such good prizes at my sports days!
The inscriptions in second hand books are just as lovely. Presumably Mrs John High had a fondness for Walter Scott – two different friends gave her matching copies of his books in memory of holidays they shared. The questions about these former owners of my books can be endless. Did she collect Walter Scott or just the binding to make her shelf look beautiful? Did all these people go on a trip together or were the books reminders of two separate holidays? What about Walter H Whitehead? Was he a soldier when he bought this copy of Galsworthy’s The Dark Flower in Germany? The books give a fascinating glimpse into past lives.
Even the history of the books themselves can be interesting. When I bought this copy of Byron from a book sale at university I clearly had to write my details in the front – you can trace at least part of its history from the endpapers.
That’s why I am definitely in favour of writing in books. It gives them a life of their own which is fascinating to read in later years.
Every December I read Arthur Ransome’s Winter Holiday. I love the Swallows and Amazons series and this one is so perfect for reading at Christmas. Even if all the food does make me hungry. Last year I thought I would read a different book in the series but when it came to it I had to choose Winter Holiday. I couldn’t resist!
Earlier this year I started reading the series again in order and got as far as book five (I skipped Winter Holiday though as I read it so much!) so when December arrived and I started yearning for my cosy reading I was determined to pick up where I left off with Pigeon Post.
I couldn’t do it. Apparently I need to read about the Fram, the igloo and all that snow. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without it!
As we head into a second lockdown I find that I am more anxious than I was last time. Primarily I think that is down to the combination of the waiting and the uncertainty. Last time lockdown just started – although we knew something would happen – whereas now we have had a few days warning. As I have spent those constantly speculating about how it will affect me personally (I know it doesn’t help but I can’t stop!) I have been very on edge all week.
So much so that my reading – especially in my breaks at work – has suffered. I just can’t concentrate on my book when I’m in the staff room! I am doing much better at home – but there I am sticking to cosy, comforting reads. That definitely seems to be the way forward for me.
Therefore, my plan over lockdown is just to read whatever I feel like at the time. If a book isn’t working I’ll put it down and try something else. Children’s books or cosy crime are probably going to be the best – I am seeing a lot of Betsy-Tacy, LM Montgomery and Margery Allingham in my future. Of course, my cat will also be there to keep me company!
On a side note, when I couldn’t read this week the thing that worked best for me was decorating envelopes for my penpals. It is something I always enjoy doing but I have never been quite so obsessed as I have been this week!
As with many small girls, I was completely pony mad. In fact, I never grew out of that pony phase. As a child, I was desperate for a pony of my own – I was one of those annoying children who frequently presented my parents with detailed charts showing all the things I could give up to fund said pony.
In lieu of the pony, I read every single pony book I could get my hands on. I read the ones from the library many times and I was constantly searching for new titles. There is something about the pony book which shows every pony mad girl to herself – I particularly identified with red-headed Jinny and for years my dream horse was a beautiful chestnut mare just like Shantih.
Although I now have my own pony (who, incidentally, I got largely because of my time volunteering at the Moorland Mousie Trust and one of the most exciting things I got to do there was helping with the publishing of a new edition of Moorland Mousie – if you like Black Beauty you should definitely read it!) this is another thing I haven’t grown out of and there are so many pony books out there that I can still find brand new (to me) titles to enjoy.
My favourites are mainly those set in Britain in the forties and fifties (although I do love others – I’ve already mentioned Patricia Leitch’s Jinny series) – Ruby Ferguson, the Pullein-Thompson sisters and Gillian Baxter are some of my favourites. As most of my childhood reading of them was from the library I am still trying to fill the many, many gaps.
Unfortunately, most of these books are out of print and many of them are rare (or at least very expensive) even second hand. I have a suspicion that this is partly because they are children’s books which tend to get more damaged than books for adults. I also know from experience that some second hand book dealers can dismiss children’s books as not worth selling which is terrribly sad.
My current obsession is the Romney Marsh and Punchbowl Farm series by Monica Edwards. I read a couple of them as a teenager but couldn’t get hold of any more. I recently discovered that Girls Gone By Publishers have been reprinting them and I have slowly been building up my collection. I have been having a wonderful time reading them and the ponies seem to enjoy it too – Galahad wasn’t too sure at first but Cookster was very enthusiastic!
I have a need to read. After my studying post last week I got obsessed with doing the exercises in my calculus textbook and spent a lot of time working on those. I loved doing them but I could feel myself gradually getting more anxious as the week went on because I had lost so much reading time. Reading really does keep me on an even keel.
I take a book with me everywhere. I have even been known to take a teeny-tiny little book to a wedding – not that I actually read it! It does mean that I generally also have to carry a big bag with me all the time though. I do have some lovely, cute little bags but they just won’t accommodate a book. On the rare occasions that I use them I tend to carry a book separately. It might be a bit inconvenient but I console myself with the hope that maybe it makes me look a little intellectual.
It can also get me into trouble. As a child I got told off for reading when I should have been doing chores. If I’m honest I still do this now – I just don’t tend to get told off for it any more! I have never yet read in a queue for the till in a shop (although I have been tempted) but I do all the time when waiting for the train or even just in the street waiting to meet someone. I still maintain that it should be socially acceptable to read at a concert. I can enjoy the music just as much when I am reading!
All of this does mean that I can end up reading in some very odd places. I distinctly remember practising for my Duke of Edinburgh expedition by loading a backpack with the heaviest books I could find and taking myself for a walk. It wasn’t long before I had pulled out one of the books and started reading it as I walked. Then there is this lovely perch in the apple tree. Who could resist at apple picking time?!
I’ve realised that I have been talking a lot about cosy crime books recently – it seems that in times of stress I really do find them comforting. I generally revert to old favourites – Margery Allingham, Catherine Aird, Dorothy L Sayers… At the moment I am mostly (but not exclusively) reading familiar authors but have been seeking out new to me titles. They have the double advantage of seeming comfortingly well known whilst still being exciting new stories.
I am not alone either. I remember early on in lockdown reading a piece by Robin Stevens about how the reading of crime fiction always increases in times of crisis. Apparently it is because it is (perhaps subconsciously) reassuring to read a book which has very human problems we know will be neatly solved by the end. I think we can all see the appeal of that!
For me, there are some stricter rules. I do not like books where it turns out the narrator – or someone whose thoughts we can follow – is the murderer. That breaks one of the rules of golden age detective fiction, although it is one Agatha Christie was happy to break – she is well know for breaking many of them! I do hate getting emotionally attached to the villain.
I also like to have a fair chance of solving the murder myself. All the detective’s clues should be available to me otherwise it just isn’t fair. I love Ngaio Marsh but Alleyn has a terrible habit of saying something along the lines of, ‘I’ll tell you on the way.’ to Inspector Fox and we never get to see that scene. It’s a bit infuriating sometimes.
I do also have an issue with books where it turns out the murder was in fact a suicide. This is a problem which is very specific to me but I just don’t enjoy those stories nearly as much.
I have however been having a lovely time indulging my taste for cosy mysteries. They are a balm I can highly recommend.
Recently I have been re-reading Northanger Abbey with a lovely group of Jane Austen enthusiasts – most of whom are far more knowledgeable than I am. I have so enjoyed our discussions and I have learnt a lot from them.
The first time I read Northanger I didn’t get it at all.  I had heard that it was very funny and I couldn’t understand why. Then I learnt about gothic novels and read it again. It turns out that it is indeed hilarious and I have loved it ever since.
The plot has a great deal to do with that (of course) but I also love how heavily books feature in the story. As a bookish teenager I very much identified with Catherine – I too have spent much time living more in my fictional worlds than in the real one.
I have also very much appreciated the books I have discovered within its pages. Like many people, I was pushed to read The Mysteries of Udolpho by Catherine Morland and, although the sentences are long and have far too many commas, I enjoyed it. An even better discovery was Fanny Burney who I read partly because she is mentioned in Northanger and partly because I knew Jane Austen herself enjoyed reading her. For me she was far superior to Mrs Radcliffe.
From there I went on to discover several other 18th century authors including Maria Edgeworth who I loved. I have not yet embarked on any of Samuel Richardson’s novels but I have no doubt that I will at some point.
For now though I have returned to the gothic and am about to start Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto. This one isn’t mentioned in Northanger Abbey but I’m sure that Catherine and Isabella would have adored it.
What is it about books ...? 