Browsing the Bookshelves

I rarely go on shopping trips, but today I had to head down to the High Street to collect a book I had reserved for me at our local bookshop, the wonderful Kirkdale Bookshop.  A visit to the any bookshop always results in pain for my bank balance and bookshelves: this is doubly true for visits to this bookshop.

Even before I entered the shop, I had two books in my hands, picked from the tables outside. But the real joy is heading downstairs, after pausing to browse the literary criticism section, and meandering around the shelves heaving under modern fiction, classic fiction and, for me a special treat, London history.  Perhaps the one blessing was that I had walked down rather than taking the car, so I felt a little constrained by the fact that I would have to carry anything I bought all the way back up Sydenham hill : it's quite surprising how heavy books can become once you've carried them a mile or so. So many temptations, and I was proud of myself for resisting so many but then I found the companion volume to the copy of Homer's Odyssey which I bought last week; and then a solid text on Mallory... and then a lovely pair of Arnold Bennett classics in lovely binding... and then.. and then... needless to say, my bag was very heavy as I trudged homewards.  But at least I had the book I had gone to collect, Paul Auster's Orcale Night, which will start my holiday reading.

And this time it's not the books that are travelling - it's us. Hubby and I are off to Brazil on Thursday. He's paying homage at The Brazilian GP (and if I'm honest, I won't miss it for the world either).  But I'm also looking for to exploring Rio for a few days - especially the beach bits.  So tomorrow I have to pack. Packing has to be the worst thing about holidays (and it's not that bad, I guess). Clothes I can cope with, it's all the other bits and pieces - have I got my sunglasses? Check! Ah, but didn't I take them out again to drive down to the shops? And now many times does a normal person check they have the tickets in the right place? And what shoes to takes? Footwear is the worst - it takes up so much space, and I never know what I'm going to need. Walking boots, smart books, beach shoes, court shoes, sandals... where does it end? I think I will have to take every pair of shoes I own: actually I only own two pairs of shoes, but several pairs of boots! I need a boot bag!

I also need a book bag. Deciding what to read on holiday is a delicious activity.  I usually select quite a range so that I have something to read whatever my mood, but so often in the past I have been waylaid from my intentions by the temptations of the local bookshops. I like to read about the places I'm visiting, so sojourns in the local second hand books shops is always a must. This time, however, I should have more success in sticking to my own reading list as my Spanish really isn't up to reading a whole sentence, let alone a book.

Well, not really cross.  Just frustrated. I've been having a wonderful time over the last couple of weeks releasing books into the wild under the auspices of Bookcrossing.  I've even been lucky enough to have a couple of my releases caught.

What has made me a little irritable though is that, when I have posted about Bookcrossing activities here before, it seems I got the URL to my own bookcrossing bookshelf wrong.  I've gone back and corrected the previous entries, but here it is again. The right version this time.

The Virtual Bookshelf's Virtual Bookshelf at Bookcrossing

I'm becoming quite obsessional about bookcrossing.  It really is a wonderful idea. If you love reading or love books (not always the same thing), and haven't come across bookcrossing.com yet, I think you'll find a visit well worth it.

Have released another dozen or so books into the wild today myself, all dotted around Forest Hill and Sydenham. If you fancy going hunting, you can see exactly where they've been left here.

Bookcrossing also has the facility to store records of your book collection for you. Lovely idea but - aside from the fact that what I have is really more of an out of control accumulation rather than a personal collection - I really wouldn't know where to start, and it would take so long to enter the thousands that are dotted all around the house. Perhaps I should just enter those which are newly acquired, as they arrive.

Not much else going on. The bookshop is slow, the garden is cold and the kitchen seems to far away.

It really felt like the end of summer today, with apples falling from the trees more quickly that I can pick them up and the last of the tomatos plumping on drying plants.  For the first time, there was a chill in the air as I pulled the last of the carrots and raddishs from the bottom of the garden. And on Monday, it's back to the office, for one day at least, and party conferences looming, autumn is really in the air.

Which is good...as I have a pile of books to read and can look forward to spending some long, lazy evenings curled up with whatever tale takes my fancy. Just a few more weeks of "free choice reading", before the study kicks in again. Going back to uni after 13 years seemed dead simple a few months back. As the date gets closer, it's becoming a bigger deal.

But for tonight, it's Patrick Cave's Sharp North - picked up a nice little, signed first edition from a fellow ibooknet bookseller a couple of weeks ago. Thanks to Jamie at Benson's Antiquarian Books.

According to this week's The Bookseller, Random House have decided it's time at last to look at the sale of uncorrected bound proof copies of books online. About time too. Perhaps they have been spurred to action by Lynne Scanlon's recent article on proofs in Publisher's Weekly.  The MD at Random House, Ian Hudson, was quoted as saying "we are not investigating legitimate second hand sales".  I wonder at what point in the lifecycle of a proof, he would consider its sale legitimate.

Earlier this year I embarked on a programme of study with the Industry and Parliament Trust (IPT), which will, hopefully, eventually result in a fellowship.  The purpose of the programme is to provides Members of Parliament and Parliamentary Officers (that's me) with experience of the workplace outside Westminster and a greater understanding of the challenges and successes of both the wealth creating and supporting services sector.  Sound a little escoteric?  Well, perhaps it does. But the experience is very practical indeed, as my first placement at Muncaster Castle demonstrated.

Muncastle Castle, nestled on the edge of Muncastle Fell in Cumbria, has been home to the Pennington Family for the last 800, although the site has probably been continuously inhabited since Roman times - over 2000 years.  Wedged between Hardknott Pass and the Irish Sea, surrounded by soaring mountains and ancient woodland, the castle stands in the one of the most romantic and wildest landscapes that England has to offer. Much of what can be seen of the castle today is dominated by its victorian frontage, but step inside and one can side treasures from earlier times.  The gardens are also superb, a leafly retreat full of interest and the unexpected.  Its collection of rhodendrums alone attracts vistors from around the world.

With a colleague from work, I was lucky enough to stay in the castle itself. We were made extremely welcome and really enjoyed the castle and its grounds. But the purpose of the visit was learn from those who have turned this historic family home into an viable business, dependent now on visitors and well-wishers for its survival, and we spent much time discussing the challenges, difficulties and successes of running a business within the castle's specific rural environment with the Lake District National Park as a neighbour.  It was an eye-opening experience. The first thing that struck me was how happy so many of the staff seemed to be with their jobs, how passionate and committed they were to mission.  But it is also clear that the particular challenges associated with running a major business in a rural environment, especially one so remote as Copeland, are not insignificant. Communications, transport and fuel prices seemed to be the top of everyone's agenda. They are perhaps the obvious issues. There are others - such as recruitment, emergency service performance, local co-ordination and planning - which can become seemingly impassable barriers to development and diversification.

I was also delighted to be able to spend some time visiting The World Owl Centre, also to be found in the grounds of the castle.  Handling a barn owl was an experience I shall never forget.

Set in Lisbon, Portugal in the early part of the 16th century, with the streets seething with fear and anti-Jewish hatred, The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon is the first episode in Richard Zimler's 'Sephardic Cycle'.  Its action, if not the story, starts in amid the terrors of one of the most disgraceful and horrific events of European history, the Lisbon Massacre of 1506 and unfolds over the days of Passover.

Abraham Zarco, an honourable and respected Jewish Kabbalist is found dead as Old Christians torture and murder Jews and unconvincing Christian converts alike.  But Abraham Zarco, his body discovered covered in semen with a young naked girl at his side, was not the victim of violence rioters driven on by mis-placed religious zeal, administrative indifference and the example of the Inquisition.  Berekiah, a talented illuminator in his own right, investigates the murder of his beloved Uncle and mentor, to discover a labyrinthine network of secrets and deceptions which reach right to the heart of the Jewish community in Lisbon.  Make no mistake, while Zimler uses the religious tensions between communities to great dramatic effect, for the most part this is not a religious novel. It is a fantastic, mystical and enthralling murder mystery.

Yet the resonance between the Lisbon Massacre and the Holocaust 400 years later cannot be ignored; Zimler's detailed and personal narration of the massacre and the ever-changing landscape of the life on the streets of Lisbon puts The Last Kabbalist in a class above much other historical mystery fiction.  And should the reader try to ignore the parallels, Zimler uses the closing pages of the book to remind us that they are there.  This is perhaps the weakest part of the book, reading more like a personal attack on Christianity than a natural conclusion to the novels action.

As a historical murder mystery, this many-layered story cannot fail to satisfy. But those expecting a treat on the level of Zimler's later novels in the same sequence - Hunting Midnight and The Guardian of the Dawn - will be disappointed.  The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon lacks the scope, grace and vibrancy of the last two part of the Sephardric Cycle and does not have the same everlasting quality. The characters and situations presented here will not stay with you in the same way that Ti and his family become old friends as you reach the end of Guardian of the Dawn.

If you enjoyed Umberto Eco's Name of the Rose or Carlos Ruiz Zafon's Shadow of the Wind, put The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon on your reading list as a guaranteed winner.

Lynne Scanlon's recent article on the effects of flooding the book world with advance reading copies and uncorrected bound proofs in Publisher's Weekly (Slaves to the Galley) is both thoughtful and thought-provoking.  There is little in her analysis of the situation that I can find to argue with. Publishers do send out too many; and often to the wrong people.  But I have to take issue with her statement that this situation creates a bonaza for used booksellers.  This is not the case. The majority of uncorrected bound proofs have little or no value in either the used book or the collectors' market.  Only those from established and respected authors - a tiny slice of the publishing market - are likely to attract the interest of book collectors or literary sleuths.  Those from the also-rans do little more for the second hand book seller than clog up the shelves with slow-if-ever moving stock.  The art for the book seller is not in acquiring ARCs and uncorrected bound proofs but in discerning between those which have real literary merit and may become desirable to collectors over the years and those which do not warrant the storage space.  The used bookseller must learn to resist the aspirations of joe public who, having acquired a handful of proofs, usually by browsing the shelves of the charity shop next door, wander into the shop hawking their wares in the full expectation that they have something rare and special and expect to be offered a significant sum in recompense for their "skill" in book hunting.  Most booksellers would do better to decline all  ARCs and proofs that they are offered.  There is a market, and a rewarding one, for a small selection of pre-publication editions, but it takes experience and expertise to distinguish between the gems and the dross.

Scanlon argues that publishers should target a more limited distribution of advance copies to those likely to generate effective publicity or significant orders. That has to be right. But there are other ways in which publishers could help to retain the value of their books as they reach the market.  The practice of "limited edition" advance copies should stop - as should be growing trend for authors to sign proofs or advance copies. In persisting in these activities, publishers are creating the market for items which are not intended for sale - and diluting the value of those which do reach the market.  The claim that second hand booksellers are somehow polluting the market place with such items is nothing more than denial. If publishers produce such desirable items, the collector will want them.

The other area to which publishers should give more attention is to those offering advance copies for sale prior to publication. It is quite natural that keen followers of a particular author will want to read the "next book" as soon as possible. As a result, advance copies from popular authors offered for sale prior to publication can attract quite a premium.  For instance, proof copies of Elizabeth Kostova's excellent literary mystery, The Historian, were selling for as much as £60 to £80 on ebay in the weeks before its publication in August 2005.  Similar asking prices appeared in ABEbooks, one of the largest on line venues for second books. 

Amazon's terms and conditions for its third party sellers prohibits marketplace sellers from offering ARCs and proofs on its marketplace platform but the numbers that are actually available suggest that the policy is honoured only in the breach.

I can detect no signs that publishers are applying pressure to any of the on line venues to control the availability of advance or proof copies prior to publication. If there is a real desire to retain the value of a book as it is published, surely the eradition of pre-publication sales of advance sales should be a priority.

Scanlon argues that publishers should seek to prohibit the sale of advance copies until a book has gone out of print. While I sympathise with Scanlon's intentions, I believe this would be impractical as well as undesirable.  Impractical because, as print on demand technology marches on a pace, we are faced with the real prospective of books never going out of print. And undesirable because it would depreive students of literature from a valuable literary source.  The better solution would be to enforce strictly the prohibition on pre-publication sales, especially on line.

Busy day all round today.  The bookshop has been humming with plenty of readers and booklovers around. And we've had the decorators in - our perhaps I should say out, as they are working on the outside of the house. By this time next week we should have a shiny renewed railings, nice bright doors and windows, a rejuvenated orange wall (I really ought to post a picture of the orange wall) and gutterting that actually works rather than creating various small and noisy waterfalls.

I did however find the time to finish reading Richard Zimler's The Last Kabbalist of Lisbon.  I don't really know whether I'm delighted with it or not.  It is an excellent read: pacy, vibrant, intricate and compelling but it's nowhere near as stylish, or sophisticated, as the other two books in the trilogy - Hunting Midnight and The Guardian of the Dawn. The Last Kabbalist is the first in the series and of course I read them the wrong way round. But I can't help wondering if I had read The Last Kabbalist first whether I would have gone on to read the other two.  The Guardian of the Dawn in particular is one of the finest novels I've in years (and I do read quite a few), so it's sad to think that others may not find there way to it because the first in the series is not on par either in scope or quality.  And the last page of The Last Kabbalist really, really annoyed me with its bitchy, unrealistic and anachronistic attack upon christianity.

We had a super day out yesterday at Blenheim Palace, Oxfordshire, where we met up with very good friends, Chris and Carolyn. The day started a little slowly as both out cars got caught up in the stream of traffic heading for Blenheim Horse Trials: that too would have made a super day out, but the attractions of the Palace, coupled with the almost torrential rain, inclined us to do the touristy bit and leave the sporting excellence for another day.

We had a good-but-nothing-special lunch in Blenheim's Terrace Restaurant. My recollection from previous visits is that the cafe was not nearly as good, so it was worth splashing out a little extra for a decent meal. An it was a wonderful opportunity tio catch up with friends we hadn't seen for months and hear all about their foreign travels.

The Palace itself, built for the first Duke of Marlborough at the behest of Queen Anne in recompense for his military victories, is genuinely interesting.  We joined a guided tour and I was delighted to find the that guide was not only knowledgeable and passionate, but also could be heard.  That is a rare combination of talents among tour guides in historic houses.  The Long Library, stunningly beautiful and packed full of fascinating books (which I would have paid a small fortune to be able to inspect - but no such luck), justified the rather high entry price (£13 per adult) on its own.  I also particularly enjoyed the Churchill exhibition, although the selection of Hallmark cards on display in the last part of the exhibition was a little bizarre.

And, of course, I realeased another book into the wild while at Blenheim.

I had good intentions today. Lots of them. Among the flood, was a determination to post a blog entry about the few days I have just spent in Copeland, Cumbria, staying at the delightful and very welcoming Muncaster Castle.  But like so many of my good intentions, it stayed just that. And I won't get it done tomorrow either, as I'm absconding for the day to visit Blenheim Palace.  I'm feeling very smug about the visit to Blenheim: not only have I managed to find the guide book we purchase on our last visit but by happy coincidence we have also chosen the week when Blenheim is hosting horse trials. Pure heaven - horses and heritage!  The books will have to wait for another day.

Those adverts that appear at the side of my blog really annoy me.  I didn't choose to put them there, that's something that BlogHi, the host, is responsible for.  Adverts creeping onto inappropriate pages on the net annoy me in general but this particular instance I find gauling for two reasons in particular.  First, much of my blog is about books. That's not surprising - I run a second hand bookshop here in South London, and I'm a bibliophile in general.  But because much of my blog is about books, someone, somewhere, has judged that it is best to advertise book shops and other book-related sites on my blog - so the adverts are promoting my direct competitors.  That's just crass.

The second reason it annoys me is because when I signed up here, there was no suggestion of serving adverts on my pages. Nor was there any attempt to inform or consult bloghi bloggers before the scheme was introduced. That is deception and sneaky and rude.

So, ok, I'm using a free blog site and perhaps I'm getting what I pay for - ie virtual peanuts for a corrupted service.  The upshot, however, is that Im beginning to think that it's about time to find a new blog hoster.  Any one who has some good ideas or hot tips on blog hosting, I'd be delighted to hear from you.  I don't mind paying a reasonable amount, and I would like to be able to transfer my existing blog automatically.

We've added a new type of catalogue to our website, detailing all the books we offer for sale on ibooknet.  Not a hugely exciting enhancement I guess, but it does show that we've done some work this week, besides all the releasing of books into the wild.

Yep, I've released another book into the wild today. Left it in the same place as the one and only of my releases to be caught to date.  I'm getting very impatient to have another book found!

The Radio Four programme, Things that Endure, carried a wonderful feature article this morning (2nd September 2005) on the author Adrian Bell, famous for his rural writings.  I've long been a fan of his country-oriented author and in particular his semi-autobiographical trilogy Corduroy, Silver Ley and The Cherry Tree but I knew nothing about the author.

The BBC programme however revealed that not only was he an author, but also the originator of the Times Crossword and its compiler for over 50 years. His son, the former independent MP, Martin Bell, talked affectionately of Adrian Bell, of his troubled life and of the enormous impact his father's country-loving books on British soldiers and prisoners of war during the second world war. Bell's daughter has, thankfully, kept several of the letters her father recieved from prisoners of war explaining how much his books meant to them during their prisonment.

Bell wrote a total of 24 books, the last of which was published just two weeks before his death on 7th September 1980. He also contributed many articles to various publications including The Eastern Daily Press which featured his Countryman's Notebook for some 35 years.  The Eastern Daily Press is currently re-running some of his Notebook columns.

I was also delighted to learn that there is Adrian Bell Society, formed in 1996. That's another one I'll be watching.

Martin Bell has also written on his father and his work for Penguin, published in a collection called Father and Son and published by the Penguin Collector's Society.  An extract of that work appears on the Penguin website.

We used to sell a lot of his books in our second hand book shop, but they are increasingly hard to find and when we do get them into stock, they tend to sell very quickly.  Click here to see which of Adrian Bell's books we have in stock at present.

If you can't find what you are after at The Virtual Bookshelf, you might like to try Ibooknet.

Those whom enjoy Adrian Bell's writing may also enjoy the novels of

• A G Street
• Henry Williamson
• Richard Harman
• Ian Niall
• Brian P Martin

all of who write with affection and insight on English rural life and nature.