Tales From the Shelves

Perhaps it's a reflection of my advancing years that, only days later, I can no longer remember what it was that prompted my curiosity.  Earlier this week, I needed to find out the difference between English Bond and Flemish Bond and, despite having Wikipedia at my fingertips, I walked across the room and picked up Ware & Beatty's 'Short Dictionary of Architecture'.  Now, this slim volume doesn't rank highly on my current reading list - in fact it's not even in the running for the bottom place - but it's been in my possession for well over 50 years, since it was presented to me as the Junior Geography Prize.

This isn't the oldest book in my collection.  That honour probably goes to 'Odham's Encyclopaedia for Children', which lives on the top shelf and pre-dates it by some three years.  As its dust jacket declares, it's profusely illustrated with over 2,500 pictures and I won it for being the highest-scoring boy from my school in the 11-plus examinations that year.  Its partner went to Bridget, who now lives in Australia and whom I met again a few years ago at a high school reunion.

As I put these two memories together, I realised that there are many more tomes lurking on my shelves that have a story to tell.  None is as old as these two veterans, but some of the stories bear re-telling.  Take 'Milk, Muck and Memories', for example.  I bought it because of the picture on the front, which reminded me of my father - not that I ever saw him with a horse - but 'horseman' was his description on his marriage certificate.  It is a selection of memories of country life between the wars.  Along with the two pictures that accompany it, it's a souvenir of a visit to Market Rasen nearly five years ago.

'The Highland Clearances' and the other two small books with them are a reminder of another of my travels, bought in John o' Groats while on a railway weekend in Scotland.  'A History of Ireland in 250 Episodes' is of similar, if more intense, provenance.  It's author, Dr. Jonathan Bardon, was commissioned by BBC Ulster in 2005 to do a series of 240 five-minutes talks on Ireland's history to 1939.  It was a series that was later aired on RTÉ during the time that I could receive their programmes on Long Wave in my van.  I heard many of these talks and appreciated both their content and their concise presentation.  A few years later, I had time on my hands after delivering some flowers to Tesco in Dún Laoghaire and, while browsing in a bookshop, I spotted this publication, for which ten chapters had been added to the radio talks to bring it up to date.  I'd tried without success to obtain the book locally ... and now snapped it up without hesitation.

While on the subject of work, notice the two small books at the back: 'Philip's Street Atlases of Norfolk and Suffolk'.  These are the sole survivors of a whole crate of such atlases, large and small, which I collected over several years, just before and after the arrival of SatNav.  I think my collection covered every county of England, parts of Wales and the major cities of Scotland and Ireland.  At the time, they proved invaluable but, with the exception of these two (kept to help my family history investigations and also transcription work that I have undertaken in retirement), all the rest were a parting gift on the occasion of the sale of my Motor-caravan a few years ago.

Not all of my 'library' offers such pleasant stories, however.  The one to which I have given pride of place in this selection is, in fact, an imposter.  I received a gift of 'Quaker Faith and Practice' after conducting an Examination of the annual accounts of Tivetshall Monthly Meeting in Norfolk back in the 1980s or '90s.  It was duly inscribed with the date and the signatures of the Clerk and Treasurer of the Meeting.  Sadly - for what reason I cannot fathom: vengeance, oversight or anything in between - it was the one missing item from a car-load of books that I received from my ex-wife on a car park in Hitchin after a divorce hearing.  Having already accepted the finality of the situation, I decided that a replacement had to be sought and when next in London, I visited Quaker House opposite Euston Station and duly secured this copy.  Even if it has no 'voice', it can still tell the story.

And finally, swirling back again through the years, I bring you the twin volumes on the extreme left of my picture.  When I was first investigating the possibility of training as a Reader (lay minister) in the church, it was to Canon Frank Colquhoun, the editor of these two collections of 'Parish Prayers,' that I paid a visit at his office in Norwich.  He was at that time the Diocesan Warden of Readers, and he advised me to go away and finish my accountancy exams first and then return.  When I did so a few years later, he had retired, but his books were a 'go-to' resource for a number of years after that.

I challenge you, dear reader, to disagree with a suggestion that I heard many years ago that a good library is a valued friend.