Start the week #45
Start the week #45
A break, books PLUS a brand new series on my favourite bookshops
Greetings!
Every so often I need a break, so last week I stayed in Southwold, Suffolk, England. During that time I visited one of my favourite bookshops, and discovered another bookshop which became an instant favourite. Thanks to the obliging English weather that ensured it rained long and hard enough to make going out an unpleasant prospect, I also managed to read and review four books while I was there.
Apparently, this post is too long to read in email, so you ought to read it in the app or in your browser.
But enough of this persiflage! On with the newsletter.
About Southwold
It’s a pretty little town, with several cafés, bakeries, a decent bookshop (for new books) a nice beach, a pier with some pretty crazy machines in an amusement arcade, and gorgeous light.
Unfortunately, because it’s so nice lots of people want to stay there, to the extent of buying property. The result has been that by 2015 a greater percentage of people in Southwold (57%) were visitors than actually live there. A local resident told me that because of this there isn’t much of a local neighbourhood to speak of.
Here’s a map, showing where I stayed (in a self-catering apartment) and the cafe where they make the best latté.
Good intentions
That’s the title of an essay in Calvino’s The Written World and The Unwritten World (which I’ve reviewed). He describes the process I suspect we all go through when preparing for a break, and exactly what I did myself a few weeks ago. You add book after book to an ever-growing pile that you’ll take away with you because you’ll have loads of time in which to read them. Eventually you realise that transporting this lot will require a trunk.
You therefore start taking books off the pile until you’re left with just a handful. But because of the joys of relaxing you end up bringing them back unopened. One hundred percent accurate, and in my case the only books I did open, apart from a few I bought — see below) were the ones I’d been asked to review by the end of the week.
The journey
As I described last week, because of flooding it took me around four and a half hours. The first 80 miles took me an hour and a half. The last 10 took three hours.
Roadworks didn’t help either. On the way I saw a sign that read “We will not tolerate abuse on this site”, which made me wonder where they do tolerate abuse.
Bookshops
Whenever I go to Southwold I make a point of visiting Chapel Books in Westleton. Westleton is a quiet village not too far from the bird reserve at Minsmere and the heath and the monastery at Dunwich. The church (St Peter’s) dates from the 14th century and was built by the Dunwich monks. Isn’t it astonishing to think that people have been living, working and worshipping there for at least seven hundred years?
I always park next to the village green, a lovely quiet spot where I can sit for a while repeating to myself over and over again, “Do not buy too many books, do not buy too many books…”1.
Chapel Books
Chapel Books is just along the road, opposite the village store and a tea room I’ve never visited. As the name suggests, it’s in an ex-chapel, and you can’t miss it.
I always enjoy visiting Chapel Books partly because it has such an air of eccentricity. A sign on the entrance exemplifies this:
It’s the “or longer” that makes me smile, because it’s so open-ended as to be almost meaningless if you take it literally. It reminds me of a sign on a restaurant in London some years ago: “We specialise in vegetarian and non-vegetarian food.”
To get the owner’s attention you have to bang on old tin with a stick provided for the purpose. I’ve never managed to obtain a sonorous sound no matter how or where I hit it.
When I visited last week I’d managed to time matters such that I got soaked. Upon entering the shop I was faced with a huge sign with a towel draped over it: “NO DRIPS! [Because water can damage books.]Hang your coat up or use the towel provided.” Fair enough.
The Chapel Books website is amusing, and I think almost certainly a good example of self-effacement:
“I am Bob Jackson. I am in no way qualified to do this job.”
Not for a moment do I think this is true. Although the place gives the impression of haphazardness, what with armchairs and stools all over the place, it is anything but. There is an amazing array of books on a vast number of subjects (and reasonably priced too). One of these days I shall stride in and announce, “I say. I’m looking for a book about the history of the Manchester Ship Canal between 1896 and 1897.” I’m reasonably confident that Bob will tell me where I can find that, or something like it.
I was very tempted to buy a volume with the exciting title of (something like) “Report of the the 34th Soviet Congress on social realism in fiction”, but I couldn’t really justify the expenditure (£8). Besides, there is a scholar somewhere who would derive far more benefit from it than I.
In the end, over a few visits, what I did buy were a couple of books by H.F.Ellis, the author of the A.J.Wentworth2 books, a Just William book (I used to love those books when I was a child, and I’d like to see what made the writing so engaging), and a Jennings and Darbishire book by Anthony Buckeridge. Those two schoolboys were sort of up-market versions of William, and they say things like “Wizard” and “Whacko” meaning “Great!”. It’s a bit weird to be honest. I also bought a book of Mozart’s flute concertos for Elaine.
Anyway, bottom line is that if you’re in the area you must visit Chapel Books.
There’s a notice in the entrance declaring that there is now another bookshop in Westleton. Come out of Chapel, turn right, and walk along to the petrol station and turn right again. Barnabees Books is just up on the right-hand side.
Barnabees Books
When I walked in I was greeted by this sight:
I gingerly asked the owner, who turned out to be called Tyona (“people call me Ty”) if there was any sort of order to the books. She gave me a long apology and a speech about how she would like to have one room dedicated to fiction and the other to non-fiction. But she rather misled me because there is a lot of order, with many books arranged in sections:
Both the temperature and the atmosphere were lovely and warm, just what were needed on such a dank and dismal day. Ty was an absolute delight to speak to, and clearly knows about books — she mentioned repairing a cracked spine. She described herself as an apprentice to Bob, and she also worked in Any Amount of Books, one of my favourite bookshops in London and my absolute favourite secondhand bookshop in London.
I bought a book about pedalling on the piano for Elaine, and another Just William book for me.
Ty and I chatted about books’ lives. That was inspired by my seeing an inscription in a gardening book along the lines of “To my darling husband on our first wedding anniversary.” The book was at least 52 years old, and we had a discussion about what happened to those newlyweds over the course of a lifetime? What had happened for this book to end up in a shop? And how sad it is when lovingly curated personal libraries are broken up.
As I was about to leave I asked Ty if there would be a greater semblance of order if I return next year. After a lengthy description about what needs to be done and how it could only take eight weeks she suddenly stopped in her tracks and said “No!”. We both laughed.
It’s a wonderful bookshop and Ty is really engaging. I could have easily chatted to her for ages, which is quite unusual for me3. There’s a fantastic range of books. As for some disorder, I don’t know about you but I like a bit of serendipity when I’m in a bookshop.
The only thing I would say is that Barnabee Books is open on Thursdays to Sundays 11 to 5, and Chapel Books is open every day (I think) from 2 to 4 (“or longer”, so if you wish to visit both bookshops (which you absolutely should) you will need to plan accordingly.
Back home…
Inside Freedman Towers
Me: I wouldn’t mind going to Dorset next time.
Elaine: You should. It’s full of old fossils so you’d fit in nicely!
Me: 🤣 That’s nice! Where did that come from?
Elaine: You might even get picked up on the beach!
Me and Elaine: 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
And on that note, I will take my leave. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this. Do leave a comment, and subscribe if you haven’t done so already, and upgrade if you have. I have three feline miscreants to support, and every little helps. Which reminds me: while I was away, Willow did not sit in his favourite box, Mocha slept on my pillow, and Minty ate even more than she usually does, which I shouldn’t have thought was possible.
Thanks for reading!
On Wednesday,
will reply to my letter. Subscribe if you don’t want to miss yet another chortlefest from the pen of Miss Rebecca:I read years ago that affirmations like this work. They don’t.
A hapless maths teacher.
My ideal conversation length is three minutes or less. In fact, I think “Good morning, lovely weather” constitutes an unforgiveable encroachment on my solitude.
This story has everything. Loved the photos. The map was brilliant. Even though I'm a book reader, I haven't been into a bookstore in a long time. I have visited a couple of thrift stores with a huge haul of books. Didn't find anything to buy. I had been looking for something specific.
Liked the cardboard sign for the bookshop. A very unique way of announcing it.
Enjoyed reading this whole story.
Ah, lovely Southwold. (I think...) my sister in law got married there. It was great. The whole wedding party stayed nearby in a giant mansion of a place.
The bookstore looks delightful. Reminds me of one I visited in Tasmania that had a similar air of eccentricity