The Other Elizabeth Taylor
I was eager to read Nicola Beauman’s biography of the wonderful novelist and short story writer, Elizabeth Taylor. I’ve admired since quite by chance I picked up an old Penguin copy of A VIEW OF THE HARBOUR about twenty-five years ago in Austin’s second-hard furniture emporium in Peckham (long closed, alas). I was actually looking […]
Well, I’m back …
…and it’s been so long that I have almost forgotten how to blog. No sooner was I recovering from the car crash – plaster off and walking on crutches – than I caught swine flu -and so did my daughter. There have been other problems too which I can’t write about, because they involve someone […]
Holiday reading
I’m always anxious when I go on holiday that I might run out of things to read – or take the wrong books. Two occasions spring to mind. One was a trip to Italy when I fell ill in Urbino and had only the Nonesuch Byron to read. Nothing wrong with it as such – […]
On Not Reading Proust
A couple of weeks ago I drove north to Redcar to put flowers on my father’s grave, the first time since my mother died last year. My father died when I was nine and my family moved away when I was twenty-three. I’ve only been back a handful of times since and I think that […]
Memory Lane
The first book I remember buying in a book shop, or, more likely, having bought for me, is THE BORROWERS by Mary Norton. My memory is hazy – but I see the dark wood shelves (and paneling, too?) of the old W.H.Smith’s on Redcar High Street – which probably means I was staying at my […]
The romance of Abebooks
I love to browse in bookshops. One favourite is Scarthin books in Cromford, nr Matlock, which sells both new and second-hand. I used to go there so often with my small daughter that she got it muddled up with the library and used to call it ‘the library shop.’ Another is Heffer’s book shop in […]
F is for Fan
You know how it is sometimes with a new friend. You really get on, you see a lot of each other, and then, you’re not sure why, you can’t seem to get round to ringing her, she doesn’t ring you either, and you can’t put your finger on it, but the spark’s gone. Maybe after […]
Flannery O’Connor
I’ve at last finished THE HABIT OF BEING, a selection of her letters. It took me weeks. There are 600 pages, I only have a certain amount of time and energy for this kind of reading, and it took me a while to get into them. In particular it was hard for me as a […]
More Guilty Pleasures
I’ve got more books on writing than I can bring myself to tell you. There’s some justification. They’ve been essential tools in learning how to write. And then too writing is a solitary occupation and it’s good to have a few old friends handy on shelf to turn to when I grind to a halt. […]