books arrive here each week as you know but I do still buy a few (oh alright, a
lot) and I met a blog friend (who can identify herself in comments if she wishes...waving at Carol) at Port Eliot who said she really missed Sunday
Confessions because it made her feel so much better about her own book buying
habit, so perhaps I’ll start owning up again.
Last week, eager to get my hands on Me Cheeta I ordered a copy from Amazon and then needed to spend 6p more to get free postage. 6p, I ask you, but I perused my lists and came up with Hilary Mantel’s A Place of Greater Safety.
This was on the assumption that if our ‘ilary could hand-hold me through the Tudors she was equally capable of guiding me through the French Revolution of which I think I know less than I did about Thomas Cromwell.
I love it when that parcel arrives and when this great big book clunked onto the table I was more than excited.
Does everyone else get the new-book excitement?
I pick it up and I don’t actually want to put it down.
I want to start it that very minute.
I want it with me everywhere I go and but for the fact this one is 870 pages I would have done just that.
I perhaps daren’t venture into 1780's Paris until I’ve conquered the Booker long list but I have a feeling I can see autumn reading trails opening before my very eyes.
I’d already lined up a return to some American women writers I haven’t really explored like Willa Cather and more Dawn Powell, but now I’m fancying a bit of French Revolution too because I have never managed to get further than page twenty of A Tale of Two Cities by Dickens either so might that be possible if I get my guillotine eye in?
I can hardly sit still for the thought of all the new and uncharted territory I’m about to discover and of course I can tricoteuse my way nicely through it all so all reading suggestions welcome.
Is there a record of what was being knitted alongside the guillotine?
Was it socks, stockings?
Perhaps I’ll knit some Revolution Socks to accompany.
Quite a few other new additions in recent weeks too.
From the second-hand book stall at Port Eliot, Sylvia Pankhurst, Artist and Crusader by Richard Pankhurst, revealing the much-forgotten side of the militant suffragette, that of the accomplished artist and all nicely illustrated and revealed by her only child.
Dashing off next to the annual Book Sale over at Launceston and a church hall stacked out with boxes and boxes of books all at 30p each. Rummaging began and I found a few to add to the shelves.
Babel Tower by A.S.Byatt, (30p for an ominously brand new hardback) The Careful Use of Compliments by Alexander McCall Smith, and a spare copy of Room for a Single Lady by Clare Boylan. This latter is one of my many favourite books so will be good to pass onto a friend or perhaps one of you if you are visiting down this way.
and then a book I’m afraid I couldn’t possibly leave behind,
‘She couldn’t even see the gazebo until she was halfway up the path. She couldn’t see it clearly then. It was just a shadow against the shadowy hedge...’