As well as Booker longlisters wending their way to Devon, a vast array of other reading material has arrived this week.
The Cobbler of Normandy by Otto A.Berliner arrived from the US, WWII allied intelligence, Resistance and a cobbler.This has the makings of a great story and I'm praying it will be because the premise has promise, if you see what I mean.
The Late Hector Kipling by David Thewlis.Billy Connolly loves this one and Jake Chapman laughed and laughed, mean cruel and refreshingly cynical.Great.
Sea Stories an anthology of short stories being published to mark the 70th anniversary of the opening of The National Maritime Museum, great range of writers and I will have many more good things to say about short stories very soon.The Loudest Sound and Nothing by Claire Wigfall has completed my rehabilitation, I'm now a short story fanatic and plan to always have a selection on the go.
The Fight for English, How language pundits ate, shot, and left by David Crystal has arrived in timely fashion just as my mind is exercised over this very subject. David Crystal my old mate from OU days, not personally I hasten to add, but thanks to his wonderful little book Rediscover Grammar I dropped far fewer clangers than may otherwise have been the case.He presents a compelling post-Trussian theory for saying $%&*"$% to all this grammar and punctuation zero tolerance balderdash...have I split an infinitive there? Does that sentence parse? I'll know soon.
Mrs Woolf & the Servants The Hidden Heart of Domestic Service by Alison Light, well I was just forced to buy this one, how could I not, can't wait to see how the dirt is dished.
Can you see a treasure in that stack?
Selected Letters of Charlotte Bronte edited by Margaret Smith. Year on year I borrow the occasional single volume of these from the library because at £102 a go they are never going to be mine, but I love them.I've got as far as stroking this book and have read a few extracts but when I go into 19th century rehab after the Bookerthon I shall be overdosing on these and all things Bronte-esque and Eliot-like with a bit of Oliphantine Gaskellitis thrown in.
That little stack at the top from Oxford University Press are lovely enough to merit a post of their own, individual biographies from the Oxford DNB, more soon.
Eons, if not light years ago Scott Pack mentioned a book on his blog entitled The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian.
My antennae went up, children's hospital? That's right up my ward if ever there was one.
I half-heartedly looked for copies and then I forgot all about it until we met at a meeting a few weeks ago and he mentioned it again.Then he foolishly owned up to having several spare copies.
Never mind that he had a child's birthday to shop for and was going on holiday the very next day; I have to read it, you have to send me one says I.
I'm a Registered Sick Children's Nurse, I owe it to Florence, it's my duty, it's imperative.
Well Scott being Scott and a man of his word he did.
It is beckoning to me even as I devote myself to the Booker longlist cause and I may not resist for long... in fact alright I'll own up. I've had a peek at pages one to fifty two inclusive and already I can see why Scott is raving about it.This is a very different hospital from Toby Litt's and I am already most paediatrically and literally intrigued.The Children's Hospital has had stunning reviews all over the place.
This will be the first book I read en route to post-Booker 19th century rehab (I think they're sending transport to fetch me) because it's important to wean myself off the Listeria Bibliophilogenes relapse very slowly, adrenobibliocortical crisis an ever-present threat.
There was a little note inside from Scott saying he might need the book back...how exactly do you type that funny sort of mad laugh you do with your lips sealed? Starts from the back of your throat, sort of bounces off the roof of your mouth and comes out of your ears?
You know the one I mean.