tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78849095633775660922024-03-05T22:21:53.195+11:00Book WitchAmy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.comBlogger61125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-22857375766784134022012-10-09T07:38:00.002+11:002012-10-09T07:39:58.999+11:00Scheherazade by Richard Silken<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; letter-spacing: 1px; line-height: 24px;">I found this poem over at <a href="http://strangemagnetism.tumblr.com/post/23950445922/scheherazade" target="_blank">Strange Magnetism</a> and had to share it. Gorgeous isn't it?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-stroke-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); -webkit-text-stroke-width: 1px; color: #202020; line-height: 21px;"></span><br />
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<a class="title" href="http://strangemagnetism.tumblr.com/post/23950445922/scheherazade" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: #202020; font-family: inherit; font-size: 18px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">SCHEHERAZADE</a></h2>
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Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake<br />
and dress them in warm clothes again.<br />
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running<br />
until they forget that they are horses.<br />
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,<br />
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,<br />
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days<br />
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple<br />
to slice into pieces.<br />
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means<br />
we’re inconsolable.<br />
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.<br />
These, our bodies, possessed by light.<br />
Tell me we’ll never get used to it. </div>
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- Richard Silken</div>
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-16619403924648023962012-09-25T20:08:00.000+10:002012-09-25T20:08:51.982+10:00Superb Letter from Ted Hughes to his son Nicholas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've borrowed this excerpt from Ted Hughes' letter to his son Nicholas at the age of 24 from <a href="http://us2.campaign-archive1.com/?u=13eb080d8a315477042e0d5b1&id=02678a0c4f&e=52e4da8d03" target="_blank">Brain Pickings</a> which is a brilliant weekly email full of author tidbits, facts and advice I highly recommend you subscribe to if you don't already!<br />
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They say it better than I could - The below has been taken from the Brain Pickings website:<br />
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"The analogy between the artist and the child is that both live in a world of their own making," wrote Anaïs Nin in her diary in 1945. Four decades later, 23 years after Sylvia Plath took her own life at the age of 30, Ted Hughes (1930-1998) wrote to their 24-year-old son, Nicholas. The letter, found in Letters of Ted Hughes (public library), is superb in its entirety and a worthy addition to history's finest fatherly advice, but this particular passage speaking to the beautiful vulnerability of our inner child and its longing to be seen, heard, let loose is an absolutely exquisite articulation of the human condition -- don't let the length and density deter you from absorbing it, for once you do, it'll saturate every cell of your soul.<br />
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"<i>When I came to Lake Victoria, it was quite obvious to me that in some of the most important ways you are much more mature than I am. . . . But in many other ways obviously you are still childish -- how could you not be, you alone among mankind? It's something people don't discuss, because it's something most people are aware of only as a general crisis of sense of inadequacy, or helpless dependence, or pointless loneliness, or a sense of not having a strong enough ego to meet and master inner storms that come from an unexpected angle. But not many people realise that it is, in fact, the suffering of the child inside them. Everybody tries to protect this vulnerable two three four five six seven eight year old inside, and to acquire skills and aptitudes for dealing with the situations that threaten to overwhelm it. So everybody develops a whole armour of secondary self, the artificially constructed being that deals with the outer world, and the crush of circumstances. And when we meet people this is what we usually meet. And if this is the only part of them we meet we're likely to get a rough time, and to end up making 'no contact'. But when you develop a strong divining sense for the child behind that armour, and you make your dealings and negotiations only with that child, you find that everybody becomes, in a way, like your own child. It's an intangible thing. But they too sense when that is what you are appealing to, and they respond with an impulse of real life, you get a little flash of the essential person, which is the child. Usually, that child is a wretchedly isolated undeveloped little being. It's been protected by the efficient armour, it's never participated in life, it's never been exposed to living and to managing the person's affairs, it's never been given responsibility for taking the brunt. And it's never properly lived. That's how it is in almost everybody. And that little creature is sitting there, behind the armour, peering through the slits. And in its own self, it is still unprotected, incapable, inexperienced. Every single person is vulnerable to unexpected defeat in this inmost emotional self. At every moment, behind the most efficient seeming adult exterior, the whole world of the person's childhood is being carefully held like a glass of water bulging above the brim. And in fact, that child is the only real thing in them. It's their humanity, their real individuality, the one that can't understand why it was born and that knows it will have to die, in no matter how crowded a place, quite on its own. That's the carrier of all the living qualities. It's the centre of all the possible magic and revelation. What doesn't come out of that creature isn't worth having, or it's worth having only as a tool -- for that creature to use and turn to account and make meaningful. So there it is. And the sense of itself, in that little being, at its core, is what it always was. But since that artificial secondary self took over the control of life around the age of eight, and relegated the real, vulnerable, supersensitive, suffering self back into its nursery, it has lacked training, this inner prisoner. And so, wherever life takes it by surprise, and suddenly the artificial self of adaptations proves inadequate, and fails to ward off the invasion of raw experience, that inner self is thrown into the front line -- unprepared, with all its childhood terrors round its ears. And yet that's the moment it wants. That's where it comes alive -- even if only to be overwhelmed and bewildered and hurt. And that's where it calls up its own resources -- not artificial aids, picked up outside, but real inner resources, real biological ability to cope, and to turn to account, and to enjoy. That's the paradox: the only time most people feel alive is when they're suffering, when something overwhelms their ordinary, careful armour, and the naked child is flung out onto the world. That's why the things that are worst to undergo are best to remember. But when that child gets buried away under their adaptive and protective shells—he becomes one of the walking dead, a monster. So when you realise you've gone a few weeks and haven't felt that awful struggle of your childish self -- struggling to lift itself out of its inadequacy and incompetence -- you'll know you've gone some weeks without meeting new challenge, and without growing, and that you've gone some weeks towards losing touch with yourself. The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all."</i><br />
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In 2009, 47-year-old Nicholas hanged himself in his home in Alaska. His sister, Frieda, told the press upon news of his death: "Despite the vagaries that life threw at him, he maintained an almost childlike innocence and enthusiasm for the next project or plan."<br />
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-34727626498255015262012-09-02T05:39:00.002+10:002012-09-02T05:39:38.103+10:00Shakespeare & Company, Paris<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
My first priority in Paris last week was to visit Shakespeare & Company book shop. I was determined to go here since Elizabeth Welsh mentioned the store on my post about drool worthy <a href="http://bookwitch1.blogspot.com.es/2012/06/faulkner-house-books-new-orleans.html?showComment=1341993670271" target="_blank">Faulkner House Books</a> in New Orleans.<br />
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Unfortunately you're not allowed to take photos inside the store, so I wrote some word pictures instead and snapped off plenty of real ones from the street.<br />
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Shakespeare & Company is an appropriate name for a building that could be a carbon copy of the bard's actual birthplace in Stratford upon Avon. The mosaics on the floor, the faded once black beams punctuated by the whitewashed ceiling and the tight, cramped spaces are what every bibliophile dreams of.<br />
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Books are crammed into every available space, archways included. A ladder leans against a shelf piled high with Ernest Hemingway's <i>A Moveable Feast; </i>on the other side of the room sits a little seat with a note taped to it that reads "a moveable stool."<br />
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A girl perches on a wooden chair in one of the shop's many crannies, reading with such ferocity it's as if she's determined to devour the books piled on her knees in a sitting.<br />
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From the tiny, well used staircase (the carpet is worn through to the wood), I hear the clanging lilt of an old piano. The tomes up here are ancient, and they smell of that somehow delicious scent of rotting paper that's particular to second hand book shops.<br />
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Next to a window that overlooks the Seine is a poster of the original cover of F. Scott Fitzgerald's <i>The Great Gatsby</i>, and next to <i>that </i>is a gilt edged mirror, which reflects two men reading on a wooden bench.<br />
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Out another window, in a neglected space that separates two rooms, toys are frozen in time, ready to resume their busy lives as soon as you stop looking. Miniature Godzilla-esque dinosaurs tip over a parked car while amazed gnomes stare at the planes that zoom overhead (rigged on nylon.) In the middle a procession of wild animals makes its way across the concrete desert and dolphins jump through gaps in some chicken wire.<br />
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I allow myself George Orwell's slim volume of essays entitled <i>Books vs Cigarettes </i>and walk away, as always, with a dull heart ache over all the books I have to leave behind.<br />
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-90089944108717185642012-08-23T04:33:00.001+10:002012-08-23T04:33:27.445+10:00Candid Author Shots <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> I mentioned in an earlier post that Chris Close is the official photographer at the Edinburgh International Book Festival. His author portraits are strung up around Charlotte Square, and I thought I'd share a few more of them because they are just gorgeous. My photos are very poor copies, but you get the idea!<br /><div style="text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9wuRpMpaoqrLP7z39dRMIhkbhwdCYlEEVn3JWwKn4L6yhwL8IEgie1hFS-O_n54RPQxq5tJ1i1VHTLW_-uhCjU0gXO0pS-dEG4MB79sKh9saw5S8g4iLdc4WJm5X96PEnnM7KUxZZlRn/s1600/IMG_5694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_9wuRpMpaoqrLP7z39dRMIhkbhwdCYlEEVn3JWwKn4L6yhwL8IEgie1hFS-O_n54RPQxq5tJ1i1VHTLW_-uhCjU0gXO0pS-dEG4MB79sKh9saw5S8g4iLdc4WJm5X96PEnnM7KUxZZlRn/s640/IMG_5694.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben Marcus, Meg Rosoff and Ken McLeod</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Author unknown, Kim Thuy and Matias Nespolo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoLz1mpXomtiwjRjfFQH1GAUDmnrtyFkjUOjgI91qQ3d57ppN45SE6ekqM6ukVvJpRY7QMUgCvoCb6hshwszTX5s64vOFBptCHZIwRGh8TbOnTkVz0qo1MZPq8ybfryM_KXAeiLatbYkK/s1600/IMG_5667.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQoLz1mpXomtiwjRjfFQH1GAUDmnrtyFkjUOjgI91qQ3d57ppN45SE6ekqM6ukVvJpRY7QMUgCvoCb6hshwszTX5s64vOFBptCHZIwRGh8TbOnTkVz0qo1MZPq8ybfryM_KXAeiLatbYkK/s640/IMG_5667.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ryan Van Winckle, Vivian French and Jenny Colgan<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjZSw2vMgVZeGVIGyFfrAsr-MfeiLTZaPi4zIZXO_Gmh6Tc0tCjP92NtlVYLjAHVrsJ8mCa1BX8uiyxkxDqUA-WKAxUj4NTxTTWaLfBrn7ccYolYi8mS50Tw7JGA-34sLw7A8y0pt9UfF/s1600/IMG_5675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrjZSw2vMgVZeGVIGyFfrAsr-MfeiLTZaPi4zIZXO_Gmh6Tc0tCjP92NtlVYLjAHVrsJ8mCa1BX8uiyxkxDqUA-WKAxUj4NTxTTWaLfBrn7ccYolYi8mS50Tw7JGA-34sLw7A8y0pt9UfF/s640/IMG_5675.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Val McDermid, Ben Okri and Ian Rankin<br />
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-84007732970285929232012-08-21T20:29:00.000+10:002012-08-21T20:29:15.822+10:00Farewell to the Book Festival<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">The Edinburgh International Book Festival is over for me, although it continues in Charlotte Square, and I so wish I was still there. </span>I've come away with lasting memories though, and an even greater admiration for writers, if that's possible. Irvine Welsh seemed an appropriate author to end one of the best week's of my life. </span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">So it’s back to posting
about the world’s great bookshops and literary landmarks, but first,
here are the highlights of my final days at the festival.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Peter Millar</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Journalist and Travel
Writer, talking about his latest book </i>Slow Train to Guantanamo.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Cuba was the fifth
country in the world to boast a complete railway system so Millar thought it fitting to take that mode of transport around the country.
Unfortunately<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> the train network hasn't been upgraded almost since its creation, so it was a slow journey (four hours to travel 42 kilometres), hence the title.</span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On the trains: The only air conditioning in the tropical heat came from the open windows and doors, and, "the toilets were so bad, it was the one time I was tempted to take immodium preemptively."</span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On the Cuban economy: The poverty is so extreme, it's depressing. A waiter in a bar asked me if I'd buy him a can of soft drink. The man then proceeded to share the can between six glasses so everyone in the establishment could have a try - I then of course bought soft drinks all round. The average person earns the equivalent of NZ$14.50 a month.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Random fact: Millar's publishers are following in Cuba's economically disastrous footsteps, and they haven't paid the bills, so his hardcopy book is being withheld. No matter, because for every GBP2.99 Kindle purchase, Millar makes more than he does for the GBP12.99 hard copy. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kirsty Gunn and Elliot Perlman</span></b></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Gunn is the author of </i> The Big Music<i>, an ambitious book set to the </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; line-height: 18px;"><em style="outline-color: initial; outline-style: none; outline-width: initial;">piobaireachd, the formal music of the Highland bagpipes.</em></span><i> Perlman is the author of </i>The Street Sweeper<i>, a story that spans half a century, and jumps from New York, to Auschwitz to Melbourne.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">As host Alan Taylor mentions, it's difficult to find much in common between these vastly different novels, but the one thing they do share is a reflection on memory and an examination of the art of story telling itself.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Perlman's inspiration: I lived across the road from a cancer hospital in New York for many years. If New York is a microcosm of the world, the hospital is a microcosm of New York. I was fascinated by the tantalising idea of two people who should never have met, striking up a bond. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Kirsty Gunn on the imaginary versus the "real" world: The contents of books enter our minds as surely as any "real experiences" that happen to us. "To my mind the imagined world is as vivid and powerful as anything that happens outside of it."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On the structure of the two novels: Perlman plans in advance for what he's going to write about and structures it accordingly. Gunn says she always wanted to use the piobaireachd structure but only when she had the first line did she know how it was going to flow. It's the only novel, to her knowledge, that is set to a musical style. </span></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Irvine Welsh</span></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Author of </i>Skagboys<i>, prequel to </i>Trainspotting.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">A brief synopsis of Welsh's new novel: "If <i>Trainspotting</i> is about Renton trying to get off heroin, <i>Skagboys</i> is about him trying to get on it."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On writing the same characters again: I didn't want to go back to them, but I realised I'd created all these back stories for them that were valid tales in themselves. I also wanted to write about the 80s and the coincidental way widespread unemployment and the introduction of heroin happened at the same time. I was also living in fear that I'd get hit by a bus one day and all my unfinished notes would be published. "I want the characters to operate in a way that makes sense to me, not half realised."</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How he views the characters following the <i>Trainspotting</i> movie: I always saw Renton as a slightly awkward ginger guy, but as soon as you see a character depicted by an actor, they become that person in your mind. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Why he portrays drug addicts so accurately: A lot of the addiction in <i>Trainspotting</i> came from experience, but addiction is so well documented now that it's much easier to write about. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On mythologising Leith: When <i>Trainspotting </i>was first published Welsh's friends were excited to see their story being told, but now the novel's ubiquity makes locals feel as if a part of their culture has been taken away from them. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On writing in dialect: Welsh first began writing in standard English, but it felt dull and flat. It's been a long and painful journey to get the dialect to look right. He now writes in standard English and goes back to edit the dialogue afterwards. </span></div>
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-13972449426718060882012-08-17T19:23:00.002+10:002012-08-17T19:25:10.741+10:00Edinburgh International Book Festival Day Six: The Book Phantom is Back<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Edinburgh's anonymous book sculptor is back! I <a href="http://bookwitch1.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/library-phantom-enchants-again.html" target="_blank">wrote about</a> her ten literary offerings last year, discovered in various institutions around the city. Now, 12 months to the day since </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">the mysterious paper sculptures were dropped off at the Edinburgh International Book Festival and the Edinburgh UNESCO City of Literature Trust, </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Book Shop staff in Charlotte Square have found a number of delicate and beautiful paper flowers around the site. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #222222;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">The flowers, each slightly different, come with a note and a quote from Oscar Wilde: <em>“….. freedom, books, flowers and the moon,</em>” and on the reverse, "<em>A Gift For You"</em> and a limited edition number of 50.</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">I wonder where the others will pop up?</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;">Here are yesterday's highlights:</span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Alexandra Harris and
John Mullan</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Harris is author of Virginia Woolf, a short introduction
to her life and work. Mullan is a professor of English at the University of
London and a former Man Booker judge, author of What Matters in Jane Austen?<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Harris tells us Virginia
Woolf hated lectures and found their deliverers a terrible bore, then
launches into a 15 minute lecture on the author’s exceptional writing. At least she acknowledges the irony.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How Woolf seduced
Harris: Her humour and her feel for routine and the every day. Woolf’s
fascination for the ordinary is everywhere, in descriptions of how a dog lifts
its ear when a gate creaks, to the sense of irritation around the dinner table when a
person asks for a second helping of soup. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Random fact no. 1:
Harris did her A level statistics project on the number of semi colons in the
average Woolfian sentence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Random fact no. 2:
Harris spent two winters reading Woolf’s entire canon in chronological order.
She brushed off social engagements and phone calls as she devoured the author’s
works. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">John Mullan was one of
the most charismatic speakers I’ve witnessed. If he couldn’t inspire a
non-reader to make his or her first literary dabble a Jane Austen novel, I’m
afraid the cause would be lost. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">How he drew in the audience: by conducting a Jane Austen quiz. I now know who is the only woman in
Austen’s novels to marry a man younger than herself (27 year old Charlotte
Lucas, marries 25 year old Mr Collins in Pride and Prejudice), and who is the
only woman in all of Austen to call her husband by his first name – Mary
Musgrove in Persuasion. Incidentally, Mary only calls her husband "Charles," rather than Mr Musgrove, when
she is annoyed with him and vice versa. Mullan calls the pair "companionably
rancourous."<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b>Claire Tomalin.</b><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Labelled the greatest living biographer in
England, speaking about her latest biography Charles Dickens: A Life.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Fascinating fact:
Dickens wasn’t a terribly good father or a good man towards the end of his
life, conducting affairs and declaring his wife an unfit mother. He was an
extremely private man who ordered his friends to burn his letters after reading - they didn’t - and they’re now a biographer’s best source of information. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">On authors: Every
writer has failings, and often the ones who strive for perfection are less
interesting than those who bound forward with some flaws.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">And today's Chris Close pictures:</span></span></div>
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-9738645748221591862012-08-17T04:11:00.001+10:002012-08-17T04:13:02.659+10:00Edinburgh International Book Festival day five: Alexander McCall Smith<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US"><b>Alexander McCall Smith</b></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><i>Author of the series 44 Scotland St, Isabel
Dalhousie and No 1. Ladies Detective Agency.</i></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">McCall Smith has to be
one of the most prolific writers of our time. I lost track of his books a year
or so ago as he was producing them faster than I could read them. But now I’ve
heard his jovial chortle and listened to the charming way he goes about writing
I’ll have to revisit them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">Funniest quip: When
host Al Senter joked that he should go head to head with Usain Bolt - by the
time Bolt takes off his shoes McCall Smith will have written another book (six
of his titles are being published in the U.K alone this year). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">Best insight into his
craft: When he realised how much the ladies like the narcissistic Bruce from
the 44 Scotland Street series he decided to bring him back. He discovered his
female readers particularly enjoy Bruce’s shower scenes, so, “now when I can’t
think of anything else to write, I put Bruce in the shower.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">On 50 Shades of Grey: He
hasn’t read the book and says he won’t either, but he’s pleased with any novel
that brings a profit to its publisher because inevitably that money goes back
into other works. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="mso-ansi-language: EN-AU;">What are your
favourite McCall Smith novels?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-58528714528319948042012-08-16T02:19:00.002+10:002012-08-16T02:19:50.426+10:00Notes from the Edinburgh International Book Festival: Day Four<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The Edinburgh International Book Festival has finally arrived! I'll be hanging out there for the rest of the week and posting highlights from author events each day. I wrote a few weeks ago about the books I <a href="http://bookwitch1.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/edinburgh-international-book-festival.html" target="_blank">needed to read by now</a>. I haven't managed all of them but I've put a comfortable dent in the pile. My Kindle couldn't have chosen a more inopportune <a href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/travel/blogs/roil-around-the-world/7443818/When-technology-fails-we-re-all-doomed" target="_blank">time to break</a>, but at least it's given me a nice excuse to peruse the Charlotte Square bookshop between shows.<br />
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Tuesday, August 14<br />
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<b>David Bellos</b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><i>English translator of French author Georges Perec's novels as well as the 2005 Man Booker Prize winner for translation. </i></span></b><br />
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The event was roughly centred around Bellos' new book Is That a Fish in Your Ear? (a nod to Douglas Adams' The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy). It's still on my pile, but if it's anywhere near as interesting as Bellos in person, it'll be a witty and insightful read. With every sentence he uttered I felt an increasing number of neurons fizzing in my brain. It was fascinating stuff.<br />
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Bellos' profound observation: Translation presupposes we're all different because we speak different languages, but that we're inherently the same, because the same meanings and emotions have to exist in each language to be translatable.<br />
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Greatest misconception: that translators provide a word for word interpretation of the original work: "a literal translation is an oxymoron, a nonsense." When you translate the salutation "how are you?" you translate the meaning of the words, not the literal interpretation, and so it is with a book or a film.<br />
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Fascinating fact: The way conference translators (who mainly work for the U.N) have to listen and speak (in another language no less) at the same time. If you want to see how difficult it is, watch the news one night and repeat word for word what each person says. Humans are programmed to speak, then listen, so the brain power required to do both is phenomenal.<br />
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Questions I came away with: How much of the translator goes into each work? How challenging is it to replicate the author's style in another language?<br />
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<b>Hilary Mantel</b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><i>Mantel discussed and performed a reading from her latest novel Bring Up the Bodies, the second book in a trilogy about Thomas Cromwell, which began with Wolf Hall and will end with The Mirror and the Light.</i></span></b><br />
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I could've listened to Hilary Mantel speak for much longer than an hour. Her brain power shines out of her like a beacon.<br />
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My light bulb moment: When Mantel read almost by heart. It was a strange revelation, that the brilliant sentences she was stringing together were the product of her own mind. Usually the author/reader relationship is a shadowy one, so it was a thrill to hear from the person who produced such a work.<br />
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Inspirational words: There are heaps to choose from, but what resonated most was Mantel's commitment to working at the edge of her ability. It was a theme she returned to over and again during the hour. It's easy to settle for what's safe, but what then would be the point of getting on your horse? (a reference to her girlhood dream of becoming a knight errant.)<br />
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Best insight into her craft: Her description of how King Henry VIII came to fall in love with Jane Seymour. Henry had known Jane for years, so how did he come to view her in a romantic light? "My job is to make sense of what's happening on a human level." She says a romantic novelist would've placed the reader in the garden at Wolf Hall with Jane and Henry as they wandered. But she wanted to draw the reader into the nuances of history. When Thomas Cromwell looks down at them through the wobble in the glass, that's a real historical blip. Figures are in your sightline for one minute, and then bob out. You have to keep changing your position.<br />
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Each day photographer Chris Close puts up candid and beautiful shots of authors. Colm Toibin's genuine belly laugh is my favourite out of this lot.<br />
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Tomorrow: highlights from Alexander McCall Smith's laugh a minute appearance.</div>
Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-88461992310080393032012-08-02T21:02:00.001+10:002012-08-02T21:02:11.478+10:00Literary London<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I wandered down Charing Cross Road yesterday and into book heaven. Here are a few of the bookshops I came across. <div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soho Original Books, Henry Pordes Books, Any Amount of Books. Charing Cross Road, London.</td></tr>
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I bought John Banville's new release Ancient Light at Foyle's Bookshop, host to multiple author appearances and home to a cafe. What a book lover's dream! In Olympic spirit my friend Lucy and I had to find the five bananas hidden around the room for a chance at a free coffee. Neither of us drink coffee, but we failed nonetheless. </div>
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Wandering around Whitechapel and Shoreditch I came across the 200 year old man himself, Charles Dickens, and an olde worlde book fayre poster. </div>
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If you have any ideas for more literary London haunts I should visit, let me know!</div>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-61542295786488303492012-07-25T02:41:00.000+10:002012-07-25T02:41:02.253+10:00RIP Margaret Mahy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Farewell Margaret Mahy. The prolific children's book author died yesterday at age 76 following a short battle with cancer. Her name has been synonymous with bedtime for generations of people around the world. Her wacky stories about pirates, lions and witches enriched the dream lands of us all.</div>
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The Witch in the Cherry Tree is my best loved Margaret Mahy book. I also have fond memories of reading Underunners as an eight year old, and how much did we all want a lion to live in our meadow?</div>
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Here's an obituary by the <a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2012/jul/23/margaret-mahy-dies-76?newsfeed=true">Guardian</a>, one from her friend <a href="http://beattiesbookblog.blogspot.co.nz/2012/07/rip-margaret-mahy-21-march-1936-23-july.html">Graeme Beattie</a>, and one on<a href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/auckland/local-news/national-news/7334039/Margaret-Mahy-dies-Tributes-to-great-NZ-author"> Stuff</a></div>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-52032474767880747322012-07-21T10:37:00.001+10:002012-07-21T10:41:19.864+10:00Booked Out in New England<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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New England is a book lover's treat. About a million amazing authors, past and present, called it home (Louisa M. Alcott being my fav), and around every corner almost, you'll stumble across a new book shop or library to feast your eyes upon. Here are a few I saw.</div>
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Harvard Book Store is a bibliophile's paradise. It sells a tonne of remainders (books that are going out of production or getting a new cover) for insanely cheap prices.The most expensive was five dollars. My arms ached with the effort of not rushing to the counter, tomes piled high. </div>
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Around the corner from Harvard Book Store is the Harvard/MIT Coop, founded by students in 1882. Four floors of books. Nuff said.</div>
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I was admiring the architecture in Copley Square, Boston when the downpour hit. I looked up for shelter and there in front of me stood the Public Library. Angels sang a heavenly chorus as I dashed in to appreciate the decadent interior and the stunning court yard.<br />
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I found this book in the Coop. I'm getting one. Any ideas for where and what, post them in the comments! Until next time lovely reader.</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-30831756592421235562012-07-19T01:40:00.001+10:002012-07-19T13:26:58.903+10:00Revisiting University: Five Books Based on Campus<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There's something exciting about visiting the world's great universities. It could be because I'm a nerd who gets overwhelmed by all the great minds who've studied there, or perhaps it's because it brings back sordid fictional moments. Each campus based book I've read has dished out the perfect dose of intrigue. Universities offer just the right setting for writers looking for spooky corners in old buildings for their characters to chance upon a mysterious book or conduct a secret love affair.<br />
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Yesterday I visited Harvard University in Cambridge Massachussetts, which boasts two of the most fabulous bookshops I've ever encountered. I'll do a follow up post with some pictures tomorrow.<br />
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The prestigious college got me thinking though, about my favourite novels set at or defined by university. Here are five of them.<br />
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The Secret History by Donna Tartt<br />
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The Secret History is dripping with every imaginable sin: murder, bacchanalia, greed and gluttony. Richard Papen has come to fictional Hampden College in Vermont (based on Tartt's alma mater Bennington College) on a scholarship and is desperate to ingratiate himself into an exclusive group of Classics students. When he finds his opening he becomes involved in a killing that rents apart their relationships with one another. Just writing about it makes me crave the story again.<br />
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Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh</div>
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Waugh examines the decay of the English upper class by training his microscope on Charles Ryder, now a British army captain whose unit sets up camp at Brideshead in the 1940s. The run down old mansion was once the home of his closest friend, the erratic Sebastian Flyte. Charles flashes back to their days at Oxford and the tragic turns their lives have taken since.<br />
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The Stranger's Child by Alan Hollinghurst</div>
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There are numerous tributes to Brideshead Revisited in Hollinghurst's latest novel. It begins with a dinner at Two Acres, the run down old home of Cambridge man George Sawle, who has returned with his friend Cecil Valance for the holidays. The pair are friends "in the Cambridge way"and while the novel isn't explicitly set at the university, its legacy permeates the story which jumps from pre WWI to the present day.<br />
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White Noise by Don Delillo</div>
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White Noise is a masterpiece of postmodern satire. Set in a small mid-western American town, college professor Jack Gladley is the originator of Hitler Studies in North America, despite being a non-German speaker. He and his wife Babette's obsession with death culminates when they're caught up in an "air born toxic event," the symptoms of which include sweaty palms and episodes of deja vu. </div>
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The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova</div>
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Kostova's original rendering of the Dracula tale (a father and daughter pursue the vampire through Eastern Europe) is all it should be - suspenseful, spine tingly and unreadable at night (too spooky). Some of its most memorable scenes occur in the libraries at Oxford and Harvard respectively. This is another book you'll find yourself obsessively re-reading.<br />
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Have you got any campus based books to add to my list?</div>
</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-74450545545129137152012-07-14T01:01:00.001+10:002012-07-16T21:52:37.813+10:00Edinburgh International Book Festival Preparations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/">The Edinburgh International Book Festival</a> is fast approaching and my excitement is bubbling. I've got one glorious week to soak up the Scottish city's party atmosphere (the Fringe and the Edinburgh International Festival are on at the same time.)<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John Banville</td></tr>
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All the events I'm going to though mean a lot of preparatory reading. So every train, car or plane ride from here to Edinburgh will be a silent affair for my other half.<br />
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Here are the events I'm hoping to attend and the books I'll read for them:<br />
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<a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/david-bellos">David Bellos</a> talks about the art of translation and his book Is That a Fish in Your Ear?<br />
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2005 Man Booker winner <a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/john-banville-1">John Banville</a> discusses his new novel Ancient Light.<br />
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<a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/alexandra-harris-john-mullan">Alexandra Harris and John Mullan</a> compare and contrast the works of Virginia Woolf and Jane Austen. Thankfully I've read most of Austen's works but I'll need to brush up on Woolf before I attend this one.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane Austen</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/claire-tomalin">Claire Tomalin</a> explores the life of Charles Dickens, a workaholic journalist, father of ten and tireless traveller. You can always read more Dickens (the man was an astoundingly prolific writer for having that many children!) Next on my list are Oliver Twist, A Tale of Two Cities and Pickwick Papers.<br />
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<a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/peter-millar">Peter Millar's</a> Slow Train to Guantanamo is a rail odyssey through Cuba. I'm fascinated by this country (it'll be my next trip) so this should be a great read.<br />
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Bosnia links <a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/janine-di-giovanni-ed-vulliamy">Janine de Giovanni and Ed Vulliamy</a>. They'll talk about their respective books Ghosts by Daylight and War is Dead, Long Live the War. The event may branch out onto the need to rethink war reporting in the light of Marie Colvin's death.<br />
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Elliot Perlman's The Street Sweeper has been on my radar for a long time so his event with Kirsty Gunn (The Big Music) is a great excuse to finally sit down with it.<br />
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<a href="http://www.edbookfest.co.uk/the-festival/whats-on/irvine-welsh">Irvine Welsh's</a> Trainspotting trilogy is completed with his prequel Skagboys. The ghastly and revolting imagery of Trainspotting still lingers with me. Skagboys promises to be a goodie.<br />
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Wow - that's a giant reading list in just four weeks. I'll let you know how I go with it. Have you read any of the above? </div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-51378112882730495322012-07-12T03:54:00.003+10:002012-07-12T03:54:52.544+10:00New York Literary Pickings<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Since I visited Ashdown Forest in England <a href="http://www.bookwitch1.blogspot.com/2012/03/jaunt-to-hundred-acre-wood.html">last year</a>, I thought I'd round off my Winnie the Pooh pilgrimage by viewing the original toys at the New York Public Library.<br />
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Unfortunately staff haven't taken down an old display telling visitors the stuffed animals are located elsewhere. I spent two hours wandering around midtown trying to find this mysterious place before ending up back at the main library to be told "oh that building was destroyed, they're now on the ground floor"<br />
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While on my mission I happened across the library's 5th Avenue neighbour Bryant Park. It's an outdoor oasis in the midst of the urban bustle. Those lounging on its green space looked like they'd stepped straight out of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby. And the rat race meant nothing to those seeking shade on its cute little chairs in the Reading Room. The <a href="http://bryantpark.org/things-to-do/reading_room.html">outdoor reading space</a> replicates the original that opened in 1935 as a response to the Depression Era, to benefit out of work intellectuals.<br />
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I stopped for some lunch at a Japanese tea room that doubles as a book shop.<br />
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Later on, while visiting the art galleries in Chelsea (from the bottom of the High Line this time), I looked up to read a message that seemed specially for me. <br />
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<br /></div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-4210725560435449962012-07-07T00:53:00.000+10:002012-07-07T00:56:08.169+10:00Chelsea markets, the High Line and the best view in the world<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I've been out pounding the streets of the city in which I want to spend the rest of my life - NYC. I now know why everyone wears "I heart New York" t shirts. If I had one I'd never take it off.<br />
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This post has a very tenuous link to books, but watch me make them relevant so I can tell you about my walk through the Meat Packing District yesterday.<br />
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We started at the Chelsea markets (right next door to the Meat Packing hood) and ate lunch at one of the many hip delis (me a fajita, BF a sandwich) for US$9.00. Bargain! The markets are mainly home to delicious hand made food (we saw bakers kneading the dough at "Amy's Bread"), but I also chanced upon a bookshop.<br />
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It's getting tiresome perusing amazing foreign bookstores without being able to buy. Don't tell but I've been writing down some must have titles to purchase later on my Kindle. So naughty but I can't cram another book into my pack.<br />
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Next, we climbed up two floors to the High Line, a once elevated railway line that's been transformed into an urban park. You feel at one with the city up here among the high rises and the bee populated flowers.<br />
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And look - the American Book Bindery Building (told you it'd be tenuous!)</div>
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We parked up on the bleachers for a rest and a pleasant ear assault from a couple of musicians straight out of N'awlins.</div>
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After all that strenuous walking we thought we deserved a treat, so up we went to the 18th floor of the posh Standard Hotel for a cocktail and a leisurely sup on the best view in the world.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvmrq2S0cW6UAUhadu3H29kZHel1PZdeekhxLl3uAulGVP2qAiL_sH6wCOz1LzcZ0ExvGblS0WZIq17bc5Cu-Xc3p_7fha6wbD1G9AX0z8LxV4sxJYBrHpMPA_cU8PeITcwLj-XVivh9y/s1600/IMG_3761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRvmrq2S0cW6UAUhadu3H29kZHel1PZdeekhxLl3uAulGVP2qAiL_sH6wCOz1LzcZ0ExvGblS0WZIq17bc5Cu-Xc3p_7fha6wbD1G9AX0z8LxV4sxJYBrHpMPA_cU8PeITcwLj-XVivh9y/s400/IMG_3761.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Thanks friend Kate for telling us about this "must do" New York experience - you were so right!<br />
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<br /></div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-63237808249877068082012-07-06T00:52:00.001+10:002012-07-07T00:55:27.943+10:00Strand Books, New York City<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
New York's <a href="http://www.strandbooks.com/books/">Strand</a> Book Store is a place of legend. It stocks 18 miles of books!<br />
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I'm pretty sure you could buy any book in the world in this shop. My heart broke a little in the knowledge I couldn't purchase a single one. Stupid travel weight!<br />
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I had to console myself with postcards instead. Here are a couple of pics that do no justice to the awesomeness of this shop.<br />
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They even have a stand entitled "real books priced lower than e books." Power to the independent bookstores!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzhx8rQKK7ZW_IxTRJ_EWBnz2uEyJ6NufR_YmjDjskVa0ZtnnPJY7uZC6XKI-S1K6TghGl-iwLlYxe74xgmNhT3ZyahkhmkoFv4jbpnx49NnMPxWA_GFh_X8C6m0cPMnc9R-QuRVOmtYG/s1600/IMG_3485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCzhx8rQKK7ZW_IxTRJ_EWBnz2uEyJ6NufR_YmjDjskVa0ZtnnPJY7uZC6XKI-S1K6TghGl-iwLlYxe74xgmNhT3ZyahkhmkoFv4jbpnx49NnMPxWA_GFh_X8C6m0cPMnc9R-QuRVOmtYG/s400/IMG_3485.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
<br /></div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-64943807914637932492012-07-03T11:11:00.000+10:002012-07-03T11:11:36.006+10:00The Library of Congress, Washington D.C<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The sight I was most excited to see in Washington D.C was the Library of Congress. It's a very knowledgable place with lots of lovely quotes on the walls ("in books lies the soul of the whole past time"), pictures of Roman goddesses and beautiful architecture. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Library of Congress, Washington D.C</td></tr>
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Here are some random facts about it:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5RspiPPBi0m3bYhN5fWTAP4VU9Cl25HVS3xT15UFRy_boo-fx6nKBiEGTF3rzQakvLyJ7Y-cpc6NTSlAjCwnSIV4VGmp6mR_ykBZA0c0rVY-TxSYGEM5h_OJJ1RzD2jMv5YblmygHNr8/s1600/IMG_3362.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5RspiPPBi0m3bYhN5fWTAP4VU9Cl25HVS3xT15UFRy_boo-fx6nKBiEGTF3rzQakvLyJ7Y-cpc6NTSlAjCwnSIV4VGmp6mR_ykBZA0c0rVY-TxSYGEM5h_OJJ1RzD2jMv5YblmygHNr8/s400/IMG_3362.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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1. It's the largest library in the world, boasting over 146 million books in 140 languages. If you laid them end to end they'd stretch 700 miles. </div>
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2. It has the largest comic book collection in the world.</div>
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3. It adds another 50 thousand books to its collection on average each week. </div>
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4. When the British burned the Library of Congress in 1814, Thomas Jefferson offered to sell his personal collection to replace the burned books. In 1815 Congress purchased his library for $23, 950. You can still view his original library today.</div>
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There's a fantastic exhibition that's just begun called "Books that Shaped America." You can read the entire list <a href="http://www.loc.gov/bookfest/books-that-shaped-america/">here.</a> Looking at the first editions was fascinating and as always I got a thrill at the inclusions of ones I'd read and despaired a little about those I hadn't. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdrmgfu_wAgcxK0m2nUUMUpTUnsP_hyphenhyphen0INBynd8PWMGNczBx8YiA8ttfIh6PrqQHB_BcFjCjU5crjri8T8CP3raJsAPtL6FXhnglOQJrE60_Nnd7Sywj-R2vnU6_r3ce1fsP4yEB5Rhgy/s1600/IMG_3369.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjdrmgfu_wAgcxK0m2nUUMUpTUnsP_hyphenhyphen0INBynd8PWMGNczBx8YiA8ttfIh6PrqQHB_BcFjCjU5crjri8T8CP3raJsAPtL6FXhnglOQJrE60_Nnd7Sywj-R2vnU6_r3ce1fsP4yEB5Rhgy/s400/IMG_3369.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Where's your favourite library?</div>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-47695600369304608012012-06-24T12:00:00.001+10:002012-06-24T12:06:46.177+10:00Faulkner House Books, New Orleans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Oh dear,
I'm not doing too well at keeping my bookish explorations up to date! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I've got tonnes of goodies to post, but first I'll
show you beautiful <a href="http://www.faulknerhouse.net/">Faulkner House Books</a> in New Orleans. You can
read my travel post on New Orleans <a href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/travel/blogs/roil-around-the-world/7063834/10-reasons-to-shack-up-in-New-Orleans">here</a>. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakvsIpiQJxIaCXjfW8LwZSnWsxVogzq2P9iFrFujKIY7xueILuMfShLX5cIyyF2OqqkTqEG_4PqHVP9axtnTOGYU-vYcrKm1vpiyl87fOoj5oXrG90rX4DELzBBloknKeS1xTc7uAlO6L/s1600/IMG_1006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiakvsIpiQJxIaCXjfW8LwZSnWsxVogzq2P9iFrFujKIY7xueILuMfShLX5cIyyF2OqqkTqEG_4PqHVP9axtnTOGYU-vYcrKm1vpiyl87fOoj5oXrG90rX4DELzBBloknKeS1xTc7uAlO6L/s400/IMG_1006.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Times; font-size: small;">William Faulkner wrote his
first novel Soldiers' Pay when he lived briefly at 624 Pirate's Alley
in the 1920s. Now the home has been turned into a bookshop bearing his name.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane Austen at Faulkner House Books</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had the store to myself when the shopkeeper dashed out to feed her meter. She asked me to keep things ticking over in her absence. I would've happily done so permanently.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View out to Pirate's Alley</td></tr>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-13172364100354885552012-06-02T02:07:00.001+10:002012-06-24T12:05:07.758+10:00Reading San Francisco<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm currently hanging out in New Orleans (bookish posts to follow) but before I leave San Francisco behind completely I want to share with you a few of its institutions.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">City Lights Bookseller and Publishers San Francisco</td></tr>
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Beat writer Lawrence Ferlinghetti opened <a href="http://www.citylights.com/info/?fa=aboutus">City Lights Booksellers and Publishers</a> in 1953. It's known mainly for its 1956 publication of Allen Ginsberg's <i><a href="http://www.wussu.com/poems/agh.htm">Howl and other Poems</a></i> for which Ferlinghetti was charged with obscenity. The judge in the ensuing trial ruled that the poem had not been written with lewd intent. Today the store still holds true to its progressive political values. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Beat section at City Lights</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vesuvio Cafe, Jack Kerouac Alley San Francisco</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.vesuvio.com/index2.html">Vesuvio Cafe</a> was a favourite drinking spot of Jack Kerouac's. Just across the road from City Lights, it remains a monument to jazz, poetry, art and the Beat Generation.</div>
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The birthplace of the summer of love back in the 60s, The Haight retains its slightly alty air despite attracting hordes of tourists each day (including myself.) The Booksmith is one of the city's premier literary venues. When I was here David Talbot had just appeared to promote his book <i>Season of the Witch - </i>a brilliant account of San Franciscan life in the 60s and 70s. </div>
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Framing the fiction section at The Booksmith are the first lines of some of the the world's most famous titles. It's fun times figuring out how many of the sentences you recognise.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Inside the Booksmith<br />
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-78701273419506730082012-05-17T05:18:00.000+10:002012-05-17T05:19:44.685+10:00Bourbon and Branch and Books<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span lang="EN-US">I've just begun a six month world adventure so from now on </span>I'll be posting various pictures and literary snippets that I discover on my trip. <span lang="EN-US">They'll still be
about all things bookish, but in a travelly type of way. If you'd
like to read more about the journey itself you can read my travel blog </span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.stuff.co.nz/travel/blogs/roil-around-the-world"><span style="color: #0020dd;">here.</span></a></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I will
first tell you about a little speakeasy I have discovered in San Francisco. I
spent most of my first day here napping (I can't sleep on planes) before
stumbling dazed and soporific onto the street. There I met a nice man who
told me about a covert drinking establishment just up the road. When he
mentioned the password to enter (yes a password!) was
"books" I naturally had to try out this intriguing watering hole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.timeout.com/san-francisco/san-francisco/venue/1%3A21353/bourbon-amp-branch"><span style="color: #0020dd;">Bourbon and Branch</span></a></span><span lang="EN-US"> hides
inside a dull grey building called the "</span><span lang="EN-US"><a href="http://www.wpl.lib.oh.us/AntiSaloon/history/"><span style="color: #0020dd;">Anti-Saloon
League</span></a></span><span lang="EN-US">" (an actual organisation that lobbied
for the prohibition of alcohol in the early 20th century). Unfortunately it is now pictures that are prohibited inside the bar so I can't show you the
gloriousness that confronted me when I was led through a <i>secret passageway </i>into
a dim room simply crammed with books. And the door that opened this world of
wicked delights? Why a book shelf of course. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Once
inside, candle light creates an illicit feel. It's complemented by wooden
floors, wine barrels for tables, and cocktails named "revolver,"
"scoff law" and "French 75." I drank the latter - a tart
concoction of lemon, gin and sparkling wine: mmm. The walls that aren't
book-lined with old law tomes are covered in a decadent red velvet and a notice
on the door asks guests to "speak easy" (a nod to the days of
prohibition when such rooms were clandestine.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Bourbon
and Branch is situated on the corner of O'Farrell and Jones streets in the
Tenderloin district. To enter, ring the bell, deliver the password and voila!
You're transported back to the 1920s.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: 16pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-80472318616793324452012-03-20T22:19:00.003+11:002012-03-20T22:21:15.347+11:00A Jaunt to the Hundred Acre Wood<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8meqarxTcA-DRGcuaijHr-3Ae9Eyv0EzT85GtipP3oE1IPPxENXBhIE5fgpsskMBYwhXf6qjE18AoFvCrb2rxfzeDhxcw_8eHGaUJZGeBDeZMyDIDDRBmGFcT-JOiGNczIWknpMCC2zX/s1600/Poohsticks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8meqarxTcA-DRGcuaijHr-3Ae9Eyv0EzT85GtipP3oE1IPPxENXBhIE5fgpsskMBYwhXf6qjE18AoFvCrb2rxfzeDhxcw_8eHGaUJZGeBDeZMyDIDDRBmGFcT-JOiGNczIWknpMCC2zX/s320/Poohsticks.jpg" width="216" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Illustration by E.H Shepard.</td></tr>
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<i>About an hour south of
London, in the county of East Sussex, lies Hartfield. Its one street consists
of little more than a tearoom, a couple of shops, a pub and a bed and breakfast.
But its size belies its importance. For it is the home of a bear of very little
brain, a doleful donkey and a wise “wol.” A.A Milne’s </i>Winnie the Pooh<i> stories remain favourites with my dear friend Ange
and me. Which is why one day when we had nothing else to do we thought we’d do
something. So we tripped away to the Hundred Acre Wood. </i><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><i><o:p></o:p></i></div>
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From London, we train
to the pretty spa town of Tunbridge Wells. After a half hour stopover wandering
through the public gardens we board a double decker bus that takes us down a meandering
country road, past inns with names like “The Dorset Arms,” and houses called
“Mole End” and “Vine Cottage.” The
shadows of overbearing trees dapple the road, their branches sweeping the bus
windows. We look out at age-old stone fences coaxing paddocks into haphazard squares,
the odd tractor complementing the drone of the bees as it tills the fields. With
hills rolling up to the skyline, it’s a storybook rendering of the English
countryside. <o:p></o:p></div>
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When we reach
Hartfield it’s time for a little something. We decide upon a shepherd’s lunch at
the local pub before a wander down the road to “Pooh Corner”. Once the sweet
shop Christopher Robin Milne and his nanny frequented for treats (The Milnes
lived at nearby Cotchford Farm from the mid 1920s), it’s now a lovely little
café cum gift shop that sells Winnie the Pooh post cards and sketches of the
Hundred Acre Wood, alongside smackerels and strengthening medicines. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Armed with maps
showing us how to reach Poohsticks Bridge (where the game in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The House at Pooh Corner</i> was invented), we
clamber over stiles, duck under overgrown hedgerows, and pass grand old
homesteads as we make our way through public access farmland to Ashdown Forest,
where the books are set. As we walk I almost expect to see Pooh around the next
corner humming a little rhyme. There’s certainly an air of the fairytale here, especially
when we look down to see a tiny door hidden in a tree root and a miniature pot
of honey resting outside. <o:p></o:p></div>
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At the bridge, we
spend a happy half hour throwing our sticks over the edge before wandering into
the woods again where a real life animal, a fallow deer, eyes us through the
trees. Perhaps it’s a descendant of King Henry VIII’s prey – Ashdown Forest was
a <a href="http://www.onthetudortrail.com/index.php?p=1_18_castles">favourite hunting ground</a> of his.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We head back to Pooh
Corner to sip tea in the honeysuckled courtyard and reflect on a most
delightful day. Nearly 90 years after Winnie the Pooh was published one can
still discover the North Pole, stumble into a heffalump trap, farewell a friend
at Galleons Lap, and visit the six pines. It’s comforting to know that
somewhere in the forest a tigger is being too bouncy, a gloomy Eeyore is looking
for his home and Pooh and a brave little piglet are being much more friendly
with two.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRZ-C9lJ2hM7lLjpjzhX_qnhXSmkmBdSqzlHVzo7Apo5h1cVhozt5U8zpLlIzOuL9pw1BG-A5hXjd_FBsyfX41xyWanWtqTOqHu5SdDLPuekGCidl3O2trNnIKB06yL3lD_TSdrsR6NQp/s1600/IMG_3386.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcRZ-C9lJ2hM7lLjpjzhX_qnhXSmkmBdSqzlHVzo7Apo5h1cVhozt5U8zpLlIzOuL9pw1BG-A5hXjd_FBsyfX41xyWanWtqTOqHu5SdDLPuekGCidl3O2trNnIKB06yL3lD_TSdrsR6NQp/s320/IMG_3386.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Tiny House in a Tree</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-13496643830749749722012-03-17T14:26:00.000+11:002012-04-02T20:56:03.746+10:00The Book Blues<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I’m struck with envy each
time someone asks me for a book recommendation. I also unfailingly forget
anything I have <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ever</i> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">read</i> and usually come up with something
like: “ummm ... I hear <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Hunger Games</i>
is quite good?” The reason I’m green is because for some time now I have been
in the throes of a deep anxiety about the number of books I haven’t read. At
present I have four on the go because reading just one feels indulgent when
there are so many screaming for my attention.<br />
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The thought of finishing
a book, with no idea what’s next would be utterly liberating. I yearn for a single
novel to move on to. But currently my inner monologue runs like this: “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Rum Diary</i> is at the movies soon so
I’d better read that, but I want to read the <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/tv/phrynefisher/about/">Miss Fisher books</a> before the TV
series finishes - that can be one of my <a href="http://bookwitch1.blogspot.com.au/2011/12/challenge-accepted.html">Australian Women Writers Challenge</a> components. I should read more works by women too, my quota is abysmal. But I need to make sure I read authors from the countries
I’m visiting on my world trip this year…oh and I need to look at travel guides.”
That’s all without mention of my goals to read every Man Booker winner and keep
ploughing through the classics. <o:p></o:p></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivP2nvuw8hnV618B7J4_zsYFJ2g3hBTxCiyTDJbSjrhSmd1r1lUxIj7RBLpvcH-wgd-86pcnejkoIoHQcHg9mMVYKkZnBMDo1JkaPG9TBxligxxS2CzQASEzOsbrnO_WCBLWC22ZQ_ff9T/s1600/Enid+Blyton.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivP2nvuw8hnV618B7J4_zsYFJ2g3hBTxCiyTDJbSjrhSmd1r1lUxIj7RBLpvcH-wgd-86pcnejkoIoHQcHg9mMVYKkZnBMDo1JkaPG9TBxligxxS2CzQASEzOsbrnO_WCBLWC22ZQ_ff9T/s320/Enid+Blyton.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enid Blyton</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
My problem is that I
am hampered by choice. What I need is an apocalypse (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2012_phenomenon">the end of the Mayan calendar</a> should do it.) Then
I can hole myself up with plenty of canned food and just the books on my shelf. There will be no online orders, no kindle downloads or trips to the
local bookshop. Only those books I can pilfer from the long
abandoned houses next door will be mine (the neighbours would, of course, have been
vanquished; I, the sole survivor, free to devour their libraries and their
pantries.) </div>
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My reading memories
are of visiting the school library, obsessed by a single author. When I was
very little it was Patricia Coombes’ <i><a href="http://dorrie.jdfiles.org/">Dorrie the Little Witch</a> </i>stories. Enid Blyton, L.M
Montgomery and Jostein Gaarder followed. But once I’d exhausted their
respective canons, or if all their works happened to be out that day, the
joy of perusing the shelves, choosing books randomly based on the sound of the
title or the look of the cover was delicious. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I’m still enamoured by
those finds, but paradoxically, my growing literary obsession has put paid to the
careless joy of immersing oneself in a story with no thought of the outside. I blame the Internet. Without that wretched device I wouldn't read so many blogs with their glowing recommendations and I wouldn't be able to order a book at the touch of a button. This
is not what the pleasure of reading is supposed to be about. As a youngster I
would read and re-read with abandon. Now, there are many books I would like
to re-visit, but the impassable line of those I have never read prevents me. Have
I become the ultimate literary consumer, never satisfied with what I’ve got,
always wanting more? Do you suffer from book anxiety too? And if so how do you
control it?<br />
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<br />
<br /></div>
</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-86342817847599809592012-02-26T19:48:00.000+11:002012-02-26T19:51:46.371+11:00The Passage<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy03ENHpJvzh8lalVpWEtvf-NH2MwDoPVePhf70w3fFBIrmh7e7A_p523HMdSHXJWQSNq_QV0nV3WFLsfNotgfPuyqzToX0GbNFSziucTCPcqd4qEUnGkmGLN2VPlumXFNFw5AqyJt3qhp/s1600/The+Passage+UK.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy03ENHpJvzh8lalVpWEtvf-NH2MwDoPVePhf70w3fFBIrmh7e7A_p523HMdSHXJWQSNq_QV0nV3WFLsfNotgfPuyqzToX0GbNFSziucTCPcqd4qEUnGkmGLN2VPlumXFNFw5AqyJt3qhp/s1600/The+Passage+UK.jpg" /></a><br />
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The Passage by Justin Cronin</div>
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I am what you could
call a <i>Twilight</i> anti-fan. The first film left me cold, and despite constant
entreaties from my “Twihard” friends, I refuse to waste valuable reading time
on the books. However, I am an unashamed <i>Harry Potter </i>lover and <i>The Hunger
Games</i> is quickly moving its way up my list. So after finishing Justin Cronin’s
<i>The Passage</i>, I’m amazed it hasn’t occupied the imagination of the zeitgeist in
the same way. It’s got all the makings of a media monster (excuse the pun):
vampire like beings, an electric plot and loveable characters. And like the
aforementioned supernatural/futuristic heavy weights, it’s part of a series so
the goodness keeps coming. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Imagine an orgy
between Bram Stoker’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dracula</i>, Cormac
McCarthy’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Road</i>, Francis Lawrence
film <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I am Legend </i>and Margaret
Atwood’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Handmaid’s Tale</i>. Their
love child is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Passage</i>. A
post-apocalyptic world over run by zombies isn’t an original premise, but
Cronin’s fabulously written characters and suspenseful narrative are
sensational enough to squeeze new zest out of an arguably overdone genre. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Vampire-esque “virals”
have virtually wiped out humanity. They’re the result of a U.S government
experiment with a new infection discovered in the South American jungle. Hoping
to produce indestructible “super humans” invaluable to the country’s security
forces, the result is instead, a mass of dark-loving, flesh tearing monsters that
feed off warm blood and make every tenth human victim one of their own. Only
six-year-old Amy Bellafonte, snatched by the FBI after her mother abandoned her, remains quintessentially human after infection. <o:p></o:p></div>
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First Colony, settled
when the outbreak begins, is mankind’s last bastion. Surrounded by high walls and protected from their photophobic nemeses by oversized night-lights,
humans have been living here in relative safety for almost 100 years. But the batteries
that power the lights are failing and it’s up to the colony’s bravest to save
them.</div>
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Like father and son in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Road, </i>Cronin’s
characters are battling for almost hourly survival on their journey back to the source of the outbreak. However, while McCarthy’s post apocalypse is so desolate
it’s as if one of J.K Rowling’s death eaters has sucked all that is good from
the world, Cronin’s is full of promise. There’s hope they’ll come across other
humans, hope they’ll find new batteries for the lights, and hope they’ll
discover a way to destroy the virals. <o:p></o:p></div>
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McCarthy’s abrasive
realism too is lacking. We’re often required to suspend our belief, especially
in the action scenes where characters, who realistically, would swiftly cark it
from horrific wounds, not only survive, but destroy the baddies with the use of
just one arm and a knife. Even when said baddies are creatures who move at the
speed of light and possess demonic strength.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But the story isn’t so
fanciful that you can’t imagine a similar occurrence. In fact it was sometimes
a relief to stop reading and realise I wasn’t in imminent danger of death by
viral, so utterly engrossing is Cronin’s prose. The way he presents academic discussion
about the outbreak 1000 years hence (like Margaret Atwood’s technique in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Handmaid’s Tale</i>), effectively
weights the novel in reality, as well as reassuring us that humanity does make
it, although in what form we don’t know. <o:p></o:p></div>
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As for the virals,
Cronin explicitly compares his creations to Bram Stoker’s <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Dracula, </i>when his human characters watch the movie of the same
name. During the film, protagonist Peter muses about the similarities between
Count Dracula and the virals, namely their shared aversion to light, their
immortality and their partiality to human blood. It didn’t resonate with me
however. Cronin’s creatures are far more bestial and futuristic than Stoker’s
intelligent and charismatic Count. Their glowing eyes, sharp claws and animal
instincts are more zombie-like. Although former death row prisoner, and leader
of the virals, Babcock, certainly shares Dracula’s purely evil nature, he also resembles
Harry Potter’s nemesis Voldemort.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Generally, the idea of
reading about a zombie apocalypse doesn’t excite me, so I’m pleased I had
little knowledge of what The Passage was about before opening its pages or I
would’ve missed a brilliant story. It’s the type that makes you want to pull
a sickie to finish and yet you wish it’ll never end. Justin Cronin is a word-master and suspense building guru,
creating a fantastic start that leaves one hanging for the next instalment in
the trilogy. Thankfully we don’t have to wait too much longer as the second
book is out this year and a movie is on its way.<o:p></o:p></div>
</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-46114799277017803572012-02-02T21:56:00.000+11:002012-02-02T21:56:40.551+11:00European Book Lovin'<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;">I covet a visit to each of Flavorwire's <a href="http://flavorwire.com/254434/the-20-most-beautiful-bookstores-in-the-world">20 most beautiful world bookstores</a>. Here are some of my favourite European bookish haunts, stumbled upon during a recent trip. <br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKz7841czx3DMD3_HX_baZuJgfR-rmsw7GrF9vsJdVrNx3N7o0LUsBVmXJmpbRO1ztMQNJ2-i8Klf5JCgluXWHnKBKwZWxoWdSkt8pt5T_qJX8BG8voq1U65U-zuURxLFWHOAaRYGQpmq/s1600/IMG_3762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKz7841czx3DMD3_HX_baZuJgfR-rmsw7GrF9vsJdVrNx3N7o0LUsBVmXJmpbRO1ztMQNJ2-i8Klf5JCgluXWHnKBKwZWxoWdSkt8pt5T_qJX8BG8voq1U65U-zuURxLFWHOAaRYGQpmq/s640/IMG_3762.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Old Town Bookshop. Edinburgh, Scotland.<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHSnutrtrgEEhAWtzBiID9WK_1ohsukofpwZk6XQIrlepmm12evs52ASet7Vj3lV5-7W6F78bMqeKpA76L_gnJcn_Sxz822OhvqkVc4YoIbcVnGvHSy0QgJ6kuv3wSNoJonGRHzFUU1LC/s1600/IMG_7499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitHSnutrtrgEEhAWtzBiID9WK_1ohsukofpwZk6XQIrlepmm12evs52ASet7Vj3lV5-7W6F78bMqeKpA76L_gnJcn_Sxz822OhvqkVc4YoIbcVnGvHSy0QgJ6kuv3wSNoJonGRHzFUU1LC/s640/IMG_7499.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Book Market. Belgrade, Serbia<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHslhuomJxmZhL1YTi17FOEmU4VQp5iRCX4xXbkMSTmcAWrUtghlHBv9ur3wMWOJhS4AQRyyaMB32_Nga0JFxmUC1trKuMfqwA96kit6zWPUYlD7Px1qVUSEkXHkk2SVJNqczaWvM5ipho/s1600/Edinburgh.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHslhuomJxmZhL1YTi17FOEmU4VQp5iRCX4xXbkMSTmcAWrUtghlHBv9ur3wMWOJhS4AQRyyaMB32_Nga0JFxmUC1trKuMfqwA96kit6zWPUYlD7Px1qVUSEkXHkk2SVJNqczaWvM5ipho/s640/Edinburgh.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Old Children's Bookshelf. Edinburgh, Scotland.<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl24hAWf-qTWEIZVRkEq7MckTfFA8Wjv0oVAO4DAUGzByAz_xZwcvbBPDAFLN6jy3bgzQSC218L-Wz1t5xWupaA7EztXuzeu6O-n8f79SXvtpVUCbSQp18Jz0U9cwpGOzUuOWRRVcRnvx_/s1600/IMG_7040.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl24hAWf-qTWEIZVRkEq7MckTfFA8Wjv0oVAO4DAUGzByAz_xZwcvbBPDAFLN6jy3bgzQSC218L-Wz1t5xWupaA7EztXuzeu6O-n8f79SXvtpVUCbSQp18Jz0U9cwpGOzUuOWRRVcRnvx_/s640/IMG_7040.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Kafka Bookshop. Prague, Czech Republic<br /></span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRt0s2SmYVYMUcVzIqsmh4OFZ6aVZvIfOqiklCQWr7GBczK0GKT8-Ofc3P_uFIR1ssTeydfRWQRPtPLD7Flk9AjKqsSHTadoZhcg8JZm_Bxw6kE2GVER-VaGEmCJaCEOgCAuXCp74VVnNf/s1600/IMG_4621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRt0s2SmYVYMUcVzIqsmh4OFZ6aVZvIfOqiklCQWr7GBczK0GKT8-Ofc3P_uFIR1ssTeydfRWQRPtPLD7Flk9AjKqsSHTadoZhcg8JZm_Bxw6kE2GVER-VaGEmCJaCEOgCAuXCp74VVnNf/s640/IMG_4621.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Secondhand Book Market. Brussels, Belgium.<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3qh5loIat_5bNwjR-7xIbeMZRAOZBruW6ZP_TuKqQG9v6hxJvDSMBH14FR1DAQLNVnVQR5MYX0HhMWxHk7SmPuYUNeRGuGjj9zy1MC9AiOfSdvS9yrO4UV_U1T8bXjfPX1O1Sk-hEVH-/s1600/Santorini.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="540" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3qh5loIat_5bNwjR-7xIbeMZRAOZBruW6ZP_TuKqQG9v6hxJvDSMBH14FR1DAQLNVnVQR5MYX0HhMWxHk7SmPuYUNeRGuGjj9zy1MC9AiOfSdvS9yrO4UV_U1T8bXjfPX1O1Sk-hEVH-/s640/Santorini.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Atlantis Books. Santorini, Greece.<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsPG0GzdI690n_FAZ9-fc0SGRPmO-BxP7gs77eXk-rJyBTRYsEA-xdyNBFuSJ9t68N3_YfIdJZbjcJ5sVhoPHLfjeN9Xw-z3ccTLMwb1QfIBhdsy2qlvwZ2vQMQVWjX8jnSm1MaLBo5HL/s1600/IMG_6601.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRsPG0GzdI690n_FAZ9-fc0SGRPmO-BxP7gs77eXk-rJyBTRYsEA-xdyNBFuSJ9t68N3_YfIdJZbjcJ5sVhoPHLfjeN9Xw-z3ccTLMwb1QfIBhdsy2qlvwZ2vQMQVWjX8jnSm1MaLBo5HL/s640/IMG_6601.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Berlin, Germany.<br /><br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-H5mIhkI_vE5ezPeqC4vRmdC7InxPfNxfQCTBT0goNnk54YNvvXE75YlVd-edSNpXRB7UevENqARrxYj5DtpwcfDOZ4mWCG1EhS1XrvX6ujE1GKHA_79cneDFFzj4magXPORlNQ62nHlr/s1600/IMG_4441.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-H5mIhkI_vE5ezPeqC4vRmdC7InxPfNxfQCTBT0goNnk54YNvvXE75YlVd-edSNpXRB7UevENqARrxYj5DtpwcfDOZ4mWCG1EhS1XrvX6ujE1GKHA_79cneDFFzj4magXPORlNQ62nHlr/s640/IMG_4441.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Gaston Leroux's Cellar. Paris, France.<br /><br /></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2G2XG5icjP6pr0NX026go5lJWXR-OF8z2ui6Q9ma2HKH1Vjwrq903AoYuu0L8J6lntVnlHCxPTdJ8PrVHZlVV7w23C6phjrESqgyG6Ow8RsckSda67ZwSELOya7yPwm4OTlEpqB3Ek-CS/s1600/Alice's.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2G2XG5icjP6pr0NX026go5lJWXR-OF8z2ui6Q9ma2HKH1Vjwrq903AoYuu0L8J6lntVnlHCxPTdJ8PrVHZlVV7w23C6phjrESqgyG6Ow8RsckSda67ZwSELOya7yPwm4OTlEpqB3Ek-CS/s640/Alice's.png" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Alice's Shop. Oxford, England</span></div>
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</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7884909563377566092.post-29811800993936887142011-12-23T08:46:00.001+11:002011-12-23T08:52:02.618+11:00The Phantom says Merry Christmas<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Merry Christmas! Here's a lovely present from <a href="http://bookwitch1.blogspot.com/2011/12/library-phantom-enchants-again.html">the Edinburgh book phantom.</a><br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="295" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/33321029?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe><br />
<a href="http://vimeo.com/33321029">A Book For Xmas</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user9563516">a book for xmas</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>Amy Roilhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10363624877541276000noreply@blogger.com0