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.