Independent Booksellers Week

It seems I really don't pay attention to what's going on around me sometimes. I saw this in yesterdays Guardian - Julian Barnes on his life as a bibliophile, but only had time to go back and read it tonight and so finally saw mention of Independent Booksellers Week (shame on me). Barnes writes brilliantly about being a reader and book lover, I read the whole article going yes, Yes, YES - that's me! Except for the bits about collecting first editions, that sadly is not me. 

Independent book shops deserve celebrating and more importantly supporting. The closest one I have and use at the moment is the rather wonderful Astley Book Farm, it's all second hand books, with an excellent range including some real rarities, also and most important - the ladies who run it are knowledgeable and welcoming. 

The Scottish Borders by contrast are well provided for by a string of independent book shops (the list on this link is not exhaustive but gives a good indication). My favourite is probably the Mainstreet Trading Company (the cafe is really good too) but they're all excellent and I've had serendipitous discoveries in most of them - and there's still time for the others. 

Leakey's in Inverness, worth the journey for this place alone!

In a week I'll be in Shetland (quite excited) which is served by The Shetland Times Bookshop. This is the first bookshop I knew, it still has a place in my heart, it's small and mostly a stationers but has a decent selection of books including a range of local interest things they publish themselves. Some of the happiest moments of my childhood were spent in there, I still get a buzz of anticipation every time I go in there and am delighted that whatever else has changed this institution remains.

Amazon, Waterstones, even on occasion W H Smiths are all great, but as the Mainstreet Bookshop in St Boswells demonstrates so well how an independent bookshop can be a huge boon to a community, this place is a destination - an imaginative bookshop both for adults and children, that very good cafe with wall space that works as a gallery, a small selection of antiques, other more general gifty items, a packed programme of events - it's all going on; the area would be much the poorer without them. Waterstones in Leicester does it's best, which isn't bad, but they don't come close to providing the community focus a really good independent can - something that's as important in a city as it is in rural areas. Times are tough for retailers everywhere so it's more important than ever to invest in the businesses doing it right and make sure those rare spare pounds go to a good home.

Any and all independent bookshop recommendations gratefully received.   

Mr Pye - Mervyn Peake

For the record I didn't get very far with Gormenghast (it was Lord of the Rings all over again - half way through the trilogy and I found I just didn't give a damn), despite that when I saw 'Mr Pye' in the Main street bookshop I was drawn to it. It's lucky thing that bookshops like this one make me feel that it's a positive duty (as well as a joy) to spend money otherwise I'd never have bought this book and that would have been a shame - it's a glorious little book in all it's oddities.

'Mr Pye' is something between a fairy tale and magic realism - although neither description/categorisation really does justice to the book. The Mr Pye of the title is an energetic evangelist who has more than a passing resemblance to a penguin. He's a happy soul who's determined to bring universal love and harmony to the island of Sark - not an easy task, but he sets to with a will starting with his landlady Miss Dredger and her sworn enemy Miss George. Miss Dredger is a willing disciple and at first all seems to go well, at just the moment when Mr Pye is about to bring the Sarkese round to his vision of the Great Pal (at a midnight picnic with an armchair bound Miss George descending a cliff care of some sturdy ropes and even sturdier fishermen as a finale to the evening) he's upstaged by a small and very dead whale.

From there on in things get strange for Harold Pye - he starts to grow wings and it appals him. In desperation he turns to sin in the hope that they'll disappear. They do but only to be replaced by horns - which leads to an extremely stressful time for Mr Pye as he struggles to find a balance between good and evil that will allow him to remain merely a man. It's a doomed struggle and it would take someone much better versed in the dark arts of literary criticism (or who understands it all) to tease out the symbolism and meaning therein. I did read some bits and pieces from around the net about 'Mr Pye' which were interesting but nagging at the back of my mind all the time is the thought that perhaps Peake just wanted to have a bit of fun. There are some lovely jokes in this book, my favourite being a riposte to the possibility of air born Russian invasion - a murmuration of Stalin's (it reads better than I repeat it). There are also several descriptions of the local femme fatale Tintagieu that are laugh out load funny (but again better read in context than repeated). 

The final strand of the story, and the one that lead me to buy the book in the first place, is Sark itself. The island is lovingly described, all it's nooks, crannies, and idiosyncrasies explored; it is as much a character in the book as Mr Pye himself - or anyone else for that mater and I certainly can't resist a good island story. This is a thoroughly rewarding book, odd, funny, and thought provoking, in equal measure. 

Irresolutions

Well I'm back from my break albeit reluctantly and still have a few days off to sort myself out before it's back to work. It's odd to be home, my flat is taking a while to warm up and everywhere I look there are jobs to be done. The biggest and most intimidating of these is to sort out an incipient damp problem, my upstairs neighbour had a leaky pipe which has left my bathroom ceiling in a state - this is no worse now than when I went away so it looks like that problem is under control, unfortunately there seems to be another leak in the airing cupboard. It's going mouldy. I'm not happy.

Upstairs seem nice and will doubtless be helpful but I still foresee weeks if not months of chasing plumbers, house agents, insurance companies and all the other crap that goes along with these things. It's not the start to the New Year I would have chosen but is probably indicative of things to come - the best laid plans and all that. It's also another reason why I'm not making any resolutions this year, I tried last year and felt vaguely frustrated that all the good intentions, small as they were, kept being pushed aside by more insistent issues - this year I'm taking it as it comes, my resolutions will be made and carried out on a daily basis rather than grand ones where I will constantly let myself down by failing to be consistently better organised and such like.

Meanwhile the borders were as lovely as ever, my favourite bookshop (Main street books trading) came up trumps, I read some cracking good books, got disappointed at Glenkinchie distillery (closed due to wind damage) but happily missed the worst of the Scottish gales - although we still saw trees down everywhere - it really blew, froze looking at Melrose Abbey, ate my chocolate reindeer, and generally wish I’d never left.

Peyton and Byrne British Baking – Oliver Peyton

I’ve been a fan of Peyton and Byrne ever since St Pancras station reopened with one of their tea shops in it. If I’m with my mother it’s the first thing we do after getting off the train, if I’m on my own it’s my last stop on the way home - but I live in the provinces and am a little bit stumped by the idea of celebrity bakeries and tea shops (Magnolia, Hummingbird, Primrose, Bea’s of Bloomsbury...) we just don’t have that kind of thing up here, nice cafe’s certainly (Mrs Bridge’s Tea room is probably the best) but nothing anyone would buy a book about. Or have heard of. Because of this it’s taken me a while to warm to the idea of the Peyton and Byrne book which came out in March (I was convinced it had been around much longer and was so surprised to see it had a March publication date I’ve had to mention it).

I started to weaken in the summer after having a very nice slice of chocolate orange cake in the Mainstreet Trading Company (Excellent bookshop, excellent cafe) as we left I saw Peyton and Byrne propped up in the window. Then my friend C recommended it as did Paperback reader and it looked so reasonably priced on amazon so I gave in and ordered. Sadly (but I knew this before buying) the Chocolate and Orange cake isn’t a P&B recipe (it was good, good, cake) and when the book first arrived I was a bit ambivalent about it, which wasn’t a problem because I half had it in mind for a Christmas present to a sister (which another copy may yet be).

My problem with the book is that because it’s entirely my sort of baking I felt I already had a lot of the recipes covered, everything looked nice, nothing looked new. However the proof is in the baking and it seemed unfair not to give it a go (just as well I’ve decided to keep it, sister may not have been impressed with a butter spattered Christmas offering). I made the Marmalade loaf cake, and what would have been Lemon Semolina cake if I’d had almonds and lemons but I didn’t so used walnuts and marmalade which made it go a funny colour but tastes great.

Apart from the bonus of mopping up a whole lot of odds and ends in the cupboard (I have a mountain of marmalade to match the similar mountain of Seville oranges taking over the freezer – recipes that involve or can be made to include marmalade are at a premium) both cakes turned out impressively well. Both are still moist and generally splendid after a couple of days, they cooked in the stated time, the marmalade loaf especially has a great richness of flavour that keeps on developing, and the batter didn’t escape over the side of the tin and cover my oven in cake cinders (which happens more often than I care to share – these recipes really fit the tin size given)

Because of this (and the butter stains) the book’s a keeper, there’s always room for another version of a recipe if it’s a better version, and although it feels a touch sacrilegious there’s room too for a book that tells you how to make your own version of the mighty Tunnock’s Teacake (warning - these need to be eaten on the same day as making, but that’s probably doable...)