Although the summer has had a less than stellar start, with plenty of wind and rain, there is always something to warm the heart and in this instance, aside from being back in the Motherland, its reacquainting myself with those books that didn’t make the journey to Ph with me but were stored carefully away for my return.
A fine selection of eclectic works I am sure you will agree, and just as many were lurking out of shot so there will be some surprises too. It’s an exciting time and with the weekend here I am looking forward to plunging into something either new to me or nostalgic, and most importantly not yet reviewed.
It’s always a shame to have to report a bookshop closing its doors for the last time but sadly its happened again, this time to my favourite second hand bookshop in Nottingham, Jermy & Westerman which ceased to be the last weekend.
I wonder if my continued support would have helped, had I not been abroad for the last year and a half, which in turn fuels my need to support the remaining bookshops when I have some spare Sterling. A noble excuse for being a book junkie but the mutual enablement is pitched perfectly.
Despite being a small book space with only two floors and a few rooms there were always plenty of good books on offer over a variety of subjects. In fact being a regular I noticed there was a regular turn over of stock, to cater to the needs of the obsessive. Continue reading “Jermy & Westerman”
Ways well worn
This familiar place of stone and brick
Temporal, yet not entirely material
Spectres of the past
memories distant impose themselves
On the present,
An overlay of times a world away
Recovered only in reminiscences
The bustling city
Shorn of its socialness,
A perturbing reminder of the past
Often we meet in imagination
Do I dream
Or the city?
Since 2013, most of the thoughts that arrive on this blog have first been scrawled casually, or furiously into my notebook. A constant companion for just over six years, travelling with me over three continents. Inevitably, now it is sadly full.
We have travelled to plenty of museums, mountains, and bookshops together; whilst resting in many pubs, coffee shops, and parks along the way. Sat in the sun, or curled up in bed, in all the elements, it’s been a delightful bonding with an inanimate object.
The style of handwriting, once neat and small, conserving the space, turned into more messy but better worded observations on places, books, ideas, etc, as time passed. Blue ink turned to a mixture of colours as pens were ‘borrowed’ and never returned, leaving me no choice but to acquire them in the same way. This is now one of my small pool of talents. Continue reading “Received and Noted”
The Wheel of Time turns and Ages come and go, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth returns again. In the Third Age, an Age of Prophecy, the World and Time themselves hang in the balance. What was, what will be, and what is, may yet fall under the Shadow.
Admittedly, it’s not much of a synopsis for the book but what it does do is set the scene of long ages past, an established world, and a cyclical recurring of Shadow. The beginning of the story does have a similarity to Tolkien’s, The Lord of the Rings, to give you some idea of the direction of the book, but soon opens out into something pleasingly different, once it gets going.
I savoured the beginning much more this second time around, knowing all that would happen in the next 13 instalments, it was good to appreciate the build up. Straight from the off there are plenty of details fleshing out the land and its peoples, and a compelling legend of the local area. The world building was one of the main reasons I came back to this series.
The burgeoning foundations are very solid, and also puts many important pieces in play for later books, something the reader won’t appreciate without the hindsight of latter entries, and a reread. There is plenty of peril coming from all angles which keeps the story moving, and the atmosphere is heavy on the hunted feel, where anyone or anything could be masking its own hidden purposes. Continue reading “The Eye of the World – Robert Jordan”
As we all know, odd little facts about a story can stay with the reader for years, so after last week’s team success in finding a book I had sought for years, I thought I would throw another wider ranging mystery your way to capture your imaginations.
I touched on this a few years ago in another aged post, along with some other various things. It comes from the book Inca Gold, a book of action, adventure, and a lost treasure, which always adds something thrilling to a story.
Towards the end of the book, protagonist Dirk Pitt comes across the grave of 10-year-old girl, Patty Lou Cutting, in the Sonoran Desert, Mexico, upon which the are the words:
The dark night some stars shine through.
The dullest morn a radiant brew.
And where dusk comes, God’s hand to you.
The significance of which is never expanded upon, it just hangs there cryptically, tantalisingly challenging the reader with its nebulous presence. Continue reading “Patty Lou Cutting: The Clive Cussler Conundrum”