penguin – and so she thinks

Public Library – Ali Smith

admin — Fri, 11 Dec 2015 14:33:57 +0000

I grew up surrounded by books. I know the agonising pain of having to pick only six books from the library for the week. I felt the frustration of my mother telling me to put down a book and speak to our friends. I know the thrill of receiving a new book for Christmas, and the urgency with which it must be devoured. I’ve lost hours to the lives of characters and their adventures, seen myself reflected in the pages and explored an infinite number of new possibilities, and wherever I am in the world make sure to take myself to the library. In the library one can be safe, and stretched. It’s bliss.
And it saddens me to think that this wonderful institution, an educational resource and gateway of imagination and possibility is being removed from our communities at an alarming rate. Ali Smith estimates that in the time it took her to write the twelve short stories in her collection Public Libraries, one thousand of them closed.

None of the stories actually take place in a library, but they all explore the power and potency of books in our lives. Interwoven with relationship struggles, journeys to work, transport delays, credit card fraud and the daily grind are the etymology of words, ashes of DH Lawrence, and obsession with Katherine Mansfield, and former haunts of the Shelleys. Books become part of the fabric of life, with libraries only one home of those ‘endless stories, all crossing each other.’
Between each story are personal reflections on the importance of libraries, and these were the sections that made me smile and tingle the most. Jackie Kay talks of finding ‘kindred spirits’ in the network of individuals borrowing, and Helen Oyeyemi credits libraries with being ‘the making of me.’ A glorious example of democracy, Pat Hunter refers to the Public Libraries Act 1850 and the Public Libraries and Museums Act 1964 and how this makes them a non negotiable of our society, something that Sophie Mayer refers to as ‘the ideal model of society’ and ‘best possible use of shared space.’ Sarah Wood reflects on school holidays cycling back and forth to her local library, and Clare Jennings describes her early education in the library as a ‘serendipity of learning.’
Ali Smith’s writing is deft, specific, and very human. Her attention to detail conjures up images and echoes the sounds of life with immediacy and presence. Winner of the 2015 Bailey’s Women’s Prize for How to be both, she is one of the UK’s most acclaimed contemporary writers. She might not be were it not for the library.

Published by Penguin/Hamish Hamilton, November 2015.

Michael Christie – If I Fall, If I die

admin — Wed, 15 Jul 2015 13:39:00 +0000

‘The boy stepped Outside, and he did not die.’
So Michael Christie’s latest novel If I Fall, If I Die begins. This is a beautiful story about growing up, mental illness, social divisions, relationships and education. Will lives in Thunder Bay with his mother, an agrophobe who suffers from severe depression. The only way she has been able to cope and prevent the Black Lagoon from swallowing her whole is to shut herself and Will away in their own world, to pain masterpieces, listen to Relaxation Tapes and avoid the Outside.
They create their own world. Rooms are named – New York, Toronto, Paris, the bathroom is Venice – and become places of safety. In some ways their life sounds idyllic, filled with art, science experiments, and music but Will realises that something is missing, and so steps out his front door wearing a safety Helmet and is gloriously enraptured by the outside world and becomes worn by it. Descriptions are a wonderful mix of talented prose writing and the wide open eyes of someone seeing the world for the first time – on a cold morning ‘the ice chirped underfoot like plastic’ and the first steps into the front garden sees him standing on a ‘a carpet made of salad.’ Having been home schooled for most of his life, he finds timetables, bells, report cards and detention endlessly fascinating, hungry for the minutae of a life he has not known before. He strikes up friendships with other oddballs Jonah and Angela, and becomes obsessed with Marcus, a boy who goes missing, but was also the first person he spoke to in the Outside.
There’s humour, and some of the manifestations seem humorous (Mayonnaise is a ‘a forbidden substance because it went deadly poisonous after only a few minutes out of the fridge’ and going for a walk involves ‘set up the Ye Olde Strolling Course around London’) but Diane’s anxiety was triggered by the death of her brother Charlie and Christie’s exploration of the back story adds weight to the fiercely loving and protective emotion that fuels her anxiety. As Will experiences more for himself he starts to resent her fear and the limitations it imposes, the dependency that has built up between them. Even her praise is damned as he sees it for the words that a parent gives, rather than objective feedback: ‘At home his mother produced praise like water from a tap, and it was just as tasteless.’
It’s not a plot spoiler to say that she does leave the house, Will does make sense, and that the ‘volume’ of the Black Lagoon is at times ‘turned down.’ But plot isn’t really where this book excels. It’s worth comes in the poignancy and sensitivity with which it faces and accepts daily struggles and life’s challenges. It’s a novel about becoming whole, the Outside coming Inside, the Inside merging with the Outside, love and fear, change and knowledge, and the gentle art of ‘living in between.’

Why reading won't die

admin — Fri, 31 Aug 2012 16:29:33 +0000

You’d be forgiven for thinking that the art of the written word, or at least the art of consuming that written word is over. But it seems that some people in some places are determined to ensure that books continue to be explored.
Until now only used by shady-looking characters exchanging presents, or the kind of elderly for whom technology post 1985 never really happened, phone boxes are considered by many to be redundant.
But one such red box in Horsley in Surrey is now the home of The Phone Boox Exchange, courtesy of James Econs. Armed with a free Saturday afternoon, a plank of wood, and a few quid to spend on books at the local charity shop, he set about transforming the phone box at the end of his road into an informal book exchange.
James calls it ‘Socially Beneficial Creative Vandalism,’ the idea having popped into his head and from there it was ‘manifestation to deployment in one lazy Saturday afternoon.’
Perhaps part of the problem is that authors aren’t writing what people want to read. It’s all very well going through the cathartic process, but that’s what writing is for…reading, and the other end of the chain requires a customer.
Three book lovers from the UK have set up Unbound, a take on crowd funding that lets authors (who have to have an agent or have previously published) pitch their idea on the site, and the number of supporters and finance needed to make it a reality.
Depending upon their level of investment, readers who pledge get rewarding by a credit in the book, all the way up to launch parties. There’s nothing like handing over your hard earned cash to get you reading.
Manchester is a lucky city, with For Book’s Sake having launched their very own library at Nexus Art Cafe, so punters can peruse a new story or two over their coffee and cake.
In Glasgow a pop-up library was set up for International Women’s Day, and earlier this summer the Covent Garden piazza was converted into a haven for bibliophiles.
Set up to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of Penguin, and to highlight the importance of literacy and libraries in the face of governmental penny-pinching, the Covent Garden Lawn Library proved a success in the city.
So whilst a search for ‘is reading dead’ on Google reveals 750 million results, and thus would seem affirmative, a search in the community reveals otherwise…
Originally published on For Book’s Sake