dovegreyreading...

I thought it would be good to share what I'm actually reading this week as opposed to what it says I'm reading over there <<<< which I am, but, of that selection, several books have requested my undivided attention and I'd love to know what you have on the go at the moment too.
Sometimes I hear about a book and just have to get hold of a copy, or else a book arrives and it's so good I just can't hang about, I have to read a bit....and some more...and just a few more pages. I'm my own worst enemy and I hope you don't pick up reading habits like this from here.
That list of reads for the Not the TV Book Group was a prime example, here's our selection looking lovely thanks to kimbofo.

Once I'd been presented with the list I was onto it like a greyhound out of the trap and those have all arrived and we are good to go for Sunday with Philippe Claudel's  Brodeck's Report here. Excitement is mounting, we've had interest from all directions, the Facebook Group is here and thank heavens there are the twitter-savvy amongst our number who know what hashtags are...oh yes, let's have one of those I agreed, why ever not.
I'd been such a nervous wreck about laying hands on a copy of Brodeck's Report that I'd ordered one online and another from the library. When neither had shown up I panicked and went out and bought one, belt and braces etc.
As you already know I couldn't keep my hands off the proper versus proof edition of Lives Like Loaded Guns Emily Dickinson and Her Family's Feuds by Lyndall Gordon


and I am just simmering away nicely with that on a daily basis and brewing all manner of interesting thoughts about Emily and it's all involved sitting at an 18" square table too.
Why you may ask?
Well because Emily did but there's a bit more to it than that, I'll explain more when I do a proper halfway post very soon.
That all seemed like enough to have on the go this week so I really shouldn't be dabbling in arsenic as well, except in the post came The Arsenic Century How Victorian Britain was Poisoned at Home, Work and Play by James C. Whorton and published by Oxford University Press.

I couldn't stop myself, just had to have a little look and that was my fate sealed.
We live within sniffing distance of the old Devon Great Consols Mine, which, at its peak in the nineteenth century, was the biggest producer of arsenic in the world...I didn't know that.
With a little bit of local online digging I discovered that in 1855 William Morris inherited thirteen shares in the mine generating an income of over £700 a year; at the time single shares changed hands for £800 which gives some clue as to the wealth of the local industry. His father and uncles had invested heavily and one of them, Thomas Morris, lived in Abbotsfield House built especially for him on the outskirts of Tavistock. Now surrounded by housing estates, but in the time that we have lived here, once a youth hostel and last I heard a nursing home, and how many times have I driven past with little clue of its history.
Perhaps this also explains the presence of the very beautiful William Morris window in the town's parish church?

Who knew? I certainly had no idea of that local connection.
The evidence of the mines is all around us so I shall be off on a scouting mission with the camera any day. The miner's cottages are still there, listed buildings now private homes; right out in the middle of nowhere you'll find Wheal Maria and Wheal Josiah and the waste heaps from the mines still piled up around. I love it when something on the doorstep that I've barely taken any notice of suddenly takes on some significance from my reading and a whole new trail beckons.
William Morris gets a brief mention in the book too because apparently he poured scorn on any suggestion that the green arsenic-based pigment used in his wallpaper had any associated health risks, and this despite knowing of the atrocious working conditions in the mines and the poor health of the miners. Surely quite a conflict of family and ethical interests there because the shares were instrumental in funding his business and eventually sold to raise capital for greater investment.
Meanwhile the story of arsenic makes surprising and fascinatingly readable social history, poisoning the big fear of the Victorians and apparently the Essex women had it down to a fine art.
So that's my current reading, as opposed to ongoing Stately Progress reading which is another story entirely wherein I keep the faith with Lesley Blanche's Journey Into the Mind's Eye and excel myself whilst watching the Antiques Roadshow.
I  spot the glass samovar cup and the decorated (but not Faberge) egg masquerading as the little incense burner,

'Oh that's to hang in front of your icon'

I say just a fraction before the expert utters the exact same words and Bookhound turns in disbelief at my expertise and asks

' Is this a repeat?'

So that's my reading week, how about yours?