Hat-trick

The pleasure of receiving this limited edition, signed copy of The Goldfinch = Priceless...

Beautifully bound, wonderful edition. Just had to share. Thank you Commuter Book Club (my book fairies).

Winnings

I couldn't have been more thrilled last week when I received this absolutely beautiful Donna Tartt set from Bloomsbury Publishing.

And even more exhilarating: I won them in a Facebook competition. I was quite giddy with excitement when I found out that I was the winner ("Me? What, seriously? *squeal*"), as this is the first competition that I have ever won. And I have entered a fair few over the years! But, boy, what a prize...Worth £150, these two wonderful books – which are, of course, The Secret History and The Little Friend – are housed in an elegant fabric-covered box (note to self: put it where the dust can't get at it); inside, it just gets better:

Open the covers to reveal beautiful silver-edged pages and sumptuous silver and black end papers; and then turn over for Donna Tartt's signature in traditional, Venetian ink ( I picture her with a glass-tipped pen that she dips into an ink well a thousand times to sign these sets), with the limited edition number also handwritten in ink. If you can describe books as breathtaking, then, this pair of tomes would do it for me.

If I'm honest, they are so exquisite that I hardly dare open them, lest, actually read them. But it would be a sacrilege not to. I am, however, currently reading the paperback edition of The Little Friend, so perhaps I'll just peek at the pages every now and again...

The 2013 Cheltenham Literature Festival: A Round-up

This year is the third year I have attended the Cheltenham Literature Festival. And I have to say, it has been phenomenal.

What a line-up. What choices. What... well, everything really.

And it is not just bookish types like me who have enjoyed it – my two- and four-year-old daughters have met their favourite characters, favourite authors, had their faces painted and, most bemusingly for them, been serenaded by Julia Donaldson’s husband. Other family members visiting from out of town have enjoyed comedians, actors narrating books, and, simply visiting the bustling onsite bars and restaurants. Not that I’m condoning it, but, you really don’t have to have read a book to enjoy the Literature Festival. But, of course, you will have done.

(Lydia Monks and Julia Donaldson)

This year I attended as many events as I could possibly cram in, in between work, children and life. The theme for 2013 was on the subject of memory and, accordingly, many of the festival’s events drew upon events from history, not least because of major upcoming anniversaries including: 100 years since the beginning of WW1, the 50^th anniversary of the assassination of JFK and the 40^th anniversary of the resignation of President Nixon.

I saw the marvellous Lucy Adlington, of The History Wardrobe, discussing women during WW1 through the medium of costume and historical anecdotes. 

(Lucy Adlington on stage)

She was dressed in a vintage outfit from 1915 and we were treated to some wonderful stories of real women of the era, complete with fashion, and indeed, uniforms of the time. 

(A day dress from 1914)

Later that day I saw Adlington again, this time dressed as Florence Nightingale, for her talk on the Lady with the Lamp – an equally wonderful event. If you can get to a History Wardrobe talk by Adlington, do – her energy and natural humour is infectious.

Later, I attended a talk on flappers, by Guardian dance critic, Judith Mackrell – she has written a book on six prolific women from the twenties: Lady Diana Cooper, Nancy Cunard, Tamara de Lempicka, Tallulah Bankhead, Zelda Fitzgerald, and Josephine Baker. These women, although at the time perceived by some as controversial, broke free from Victorian constraints to become larger-than-life characters that would change the path for women, becoming accepted and revered as stage actresses, artists and powerful feminists. Inspiring stuff.

I also listened in on two debates – the first a discussion on JFK by three prolific historians/professors (their most interesting comments were on how different the US, and indeed the world, might be if JFK had survived; which must be the most frustrating idea a historian would try to quantify). The second, a hilarious, energetic and superb discussion on who is the best hero from classical antiquity. Tom Holland was rooting for Odysseus, Bettany Hughes was championing Helen of Troy, and Adrian Goldsworthy was arguing for Aeneas. My vote? Odysseus (not least for the appealing twinkle in Tom Holland’s eye. Crush? Moi?).

The event I had most been anticipating was that of the line up of the Man Booker Prize 2013. Five of the six authors were in attendance and each read an excerpt from their novels; and then answered questions from the chair and audience. The buzz at this event was, of course, heightened by the fact that the winner would be announced a mere three days later. I can now say that I am delighted to have been able to listen to winner Eleanor Catton’s reading of The Luminaries, a truly captivating and epic book from such a likeable and unassuming author. All the shortlisted authors, bar Jhumpa Lahiri, were in attendance and their readings were mesmerising. By the end, I had a soft spot for Colm Tóibín – a naturally comedic fellow with a twinkle in his eye (his comments about the US being allowed to enter the Man Booker Prize were hilarious). I came home from that event feeling thoroughly inspired and am currently awaiting the shortlist collection from The Book People (my books-to-read pile is threatening to need a house of its own).

Philippa Gregory was also most interesting. Her eloquence and seemingly bottomless knowledge of England’s history was inspiring (I have since purchased two of her White Queen novels).

The festival this year was, in my opinion, the best yet. I don’t know how I shall last until the next one.

New experiences

Last month, I was lucky enough to be invited to the Cheltenham Festivals' monthly book club. This would be my first ever venture into a book club. I suppose one could say that I have been attending ‘book clubs’ for years, that is, lectures, classes and seminars, but on reflection, I can’t quite believe it has taken me this long to actually attend a bona fide one.

And so I accepted the invitation with both excitement and trepidation. Why? The titters amongst colleagues who attend book clubs always surmount to anecdotes that contain lashings of wine, gossip and not so much book reading and/or discussion. Not that I have any problem drinking said wine or participating in titillating banter, but I realised I was totally clueless as to the required etiquette. It turned out there was no etiquette at all really, just discussion, honesty and the ability to take turns (it was a big group). With wine involved however, this would have produced a much different outcome!

Reading the book in question, however, offered no hurdles – we would be discussing the quite brilliant Stoner by John Williams.

This book has become something of a phenomenon. Published in the US over 40 years ago, it was received with mixed reviews. Today, however, it has literary critics and bookworms alike up in arms as to whether it is thought-provoking prose versus a book about a man in which nothing really happens. I happen to be in the former camp – it is a beautifully written novel that simply (but not prosaically) charts a man’s life – it is emotive, inspiring, and frustrating, all at once.

And the verdict? Bookclubs: join one. Stoner: buy/borrow. 

Beginnings

There is nothing quite like the thrill of tripping through the exit of a book shop, book bag in hand, heavy with new purchases. The anticipation of crisp white pages, stiff new covers and the endless possibilities of escapism, discovery and gratification.

The act of reading is one self-indulgent pleasure that I will never tire of, will never feel remorse in carrying out and will always have time for; it is – quite simply put – like breathing.

Declarations aside, I am thrilled to be adding these new titles to my overgrown reading pile (read ‘mountain’ here) and cannot wait to get started… too many books, not enough waking hours in the day…