Tales Of The Gurrier

I have a problem, well several problems, but in this case my problem is I buy books, lots of books. I do not get around to reading each and every one, but I sure like to buy the little bastards. Nothing fills me with more sweaty palmed, dry mouthed glee then finding a bookshop full of treasures unmolested by my rampant book lust.

The South of England is just such a place. The South coast is a second hand bookshop addicts dream, and I’ll tell you why for nothing. It’s the old people. The South coast is where the English come to die and they bring their books with them. Great grey droves of them pepper the beaches and downs, tottering about in their little electric go karts, on and on they go for years, voting Conservative, reading the Telegraph and eating scones. But when they die, their books are set free. Free to fly onto the shelves of every quaint little second hand bookstore in every tiny little village town with names like Dorking, Pease Pottage, Burpham and Cowfold. Here they fetch up, the collected book buying proclivities of a generation. Everything possible can be found here, from the madly esoteric and the mundanely quotidian to the deeply weird and dreadfully un-pc.

My favourite second hand bookshop in this feast of musty tomes is Kim’s Bookshop in the town of Arundel. Arundel is home to Arundel Castle, Arundel Cathedral and the Duke of Norfolk (long story, read the wiki).

You can’t see it from here, but In the front window there is a first edition collection of the Chronicles of Narnia in their original dust jackets. On another occasion, an edition of Hans Christian Anderson Fairytales, illustrated by Heath Robinson. Just inside the door a reprint of a 1912 edition of the Arabian Nights complete with illustrations and plates. Further in I happened upon the Railways section, whereupon I discovered a book dedicated to ‘Narrow Gauge Steam Railways in South Wales’. Upstairs in the travel section I came upon a book on Norway written in 1962. Upon opening the cover a black and white photograph slipped out and fell to the floor. Eight elderly men were pictured in a harbour. In the background a passenger ship sat icebound and silent. Above one of the men an X had been marked in biro. Opposite the frontispiece were eight signatures and a dedication from ‘The Arctic Society’. Under each name was a date; 1888, 1889, 1885. The birth dates of the men in the photograph perhaps?

The book had a story, a tale to tell. Who were the men in the photograph? Why did they both sign and give their birthdates? The curators of Kim’s Bookshop respect a book’s history. When this slim volume emerged from whatever box it arrived in, they carefully sorted and priced it and then just as carefully tucked the photograph back into the slipcover to ensure it was waiting for the next owner.

I carefully replaced the photograph and put the book back on the shelf. I had other treasures to seek out that day, but next time I wander in I shall see if the men of the Norwegian Arctic Society still rest in their frozen anchorage.

(This post was originally written in July 2008)

I’m trawling through some half finished posts from last year. Going to try and clear out the pipes, mileage may vary with these bits and bobs.

The Control Centre

The new Control Centre has arrived in Gurrier Towers. Guaranteed water and faeces proof. Expect great things here soon!

Well, that was the year that was 2008. It flew by for me, each month passing in a blur of work commitments and snatched breaks here and there. It was a good year for business, but a poor one for writing. The blog suffered from a deal of neglect and some time around April I endured a long dark tea-time of the soul and considered packing it all in. I dislike using this space for maudlin’, self regarding rubbish, but 2008 was a year I ducked my responsibilities to my creative self.

The rot started in November 2007 with Nanowrimo, where, after months of planning, I produced a hideous abortive story fit only to be hauled out behind the shed and beaten to death with shovels. Failing to achieve the goals I had set out knocked me on my arse and I spent the last year wondering what I was up to. Always the reach exceeds the grasp, but so it is for everyone.

“Language is a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, while all the time we long to move the stars to pity.” Gustave Flaubert

Janey Mack, there are some words to live by.

My motto for this year will be ‘Must Try Harder. Must Be Braver.’ I will try to fail a little more often on the blog here and ‘endeavour to persevere’.

Some notable creative output was achieved in ‘08. It would be remiss of me not to express my deep gratitude to my good friend Elimare who spent many an hour in 2008 reading, correcting and no doubt cursing over my efforts to revise my half finished novel from 2006. Revising the story and receiving unvarnished criticism was a bracing, healthy and at times exhilarating experience. I recommend it to anyone who wishes to improve their writing. It has given me a deeper respect for those talented people who do it for a living (Tadmack how do you do it!?).

But enough about me, what have you been up to? In the months since this blog went dark I missed some notable moments.

Not content with maintaining multiple blogs and online enterprises too numerous to mention here, the extraordinarily prolific Tadmack had a book out. Her second, Mare’s War, is arriving in June this year sporting an awesome cover illustration by Jody Hewgill. Congratulations Tanita, I am in awe of your productivity and creativity!

Not only did Chris write a book this year, in Welsh no less, he also produced some fine, fine work on his blog. Following his personal journey over the past three years has been a rare pleasure. Chris’ skill is in the easy way he engages the reader, drawing you into the story before you realise it. Good writing has an effortlessness to it,  borne from hard graft and labour.

The joy in following a skilled writer on a life changing odyssey such as his, is in observing the slow emergence of those tricky larger themes. Chris pursues the hazy outlines of his emergent great themes with an honesty and tenacity in equal parts disarming and refreshing. Keep it up my friend.

With his multi-disciplined approach to creativity the fiendishly talented Mr. Struthers continues to cause me great personal pain. This man writes, illustrates, dreams and Twitters of the coming Apocalypse, all with a bubbling vat of brain juice far superior to my own. If this were the 18th Century I would be obliged to challenge him to a duel, as it is I fear he will be dead of the brain worms clearly gnawing on his cerebellum before the year is out.

Brian wrote and directed a play with the Limelight Theatre Company. Like me, Brian also had a light year on the blogging front, but he was ‘Our Man on the Ground,’ on election night, right where the action was in Grant Park. He also brought us several thoughtful and interesting pieces on the election and it’s lead up. How about posting up an excerpt or two from some of those plays this year Brian?

Other friends launched new web enterprises – In September Niall launched his new website The Daily Stuff. A daily repository of breaking news and oddments from the web with an Irish slant.

As previously covered, and with a singular prescience, Karl launched his pub price checking website Pint of Plain. Coverage included a piece in the Sunday Times, well done that man!

Another blogger of distinction in the Irish sphere that deserves a mention is Annie Rhiannon.

Are you reading Annie? You should be you know. Curiously, both Chris and Brian urged me to read her blog, which I duly noted and promptly forgot, more fool me.  Annie has a gift, a real ‘writer’s voice,’ one that skips along leaving you a little breathless and with a wink turns and tumbles you on your arse, leaving you a little overawed. Her three month odyssey across the USA was one of the highlights of the year. She also takes some amazing photos too.

That’s it, my round up of the year that was 2008, a little late to the party, but there nonetheless.

So tell me, what are we going to make this year?

Look out, octagenarian unicyclers about!

Down the rabbit hole.

I think that’s Angelina Jolie on one of his ears.

The Cello Wine Cellar, ‘A Virtuoso Performance’.

‘A fabulous trompe l’oeil design’.

Is there a doctor in the house?