From the Shelf

A blogger I used to follow was often chided about the number of books on her shelves. When someone asked her if she had read them all, she gave the perfect response: “What fun would it be to have a library where you have read all the books”?

I’m proud that my library includes some books I’ve had since childhood and other treasures from my mother and grandmother. But mostly the shelves are filled with books I’ve bought and been gifted. And embarrassingly, there are many I haven’t read.

For lengthy books, I’ve crossed over the divide and now prefer to read on my Kindle. Mainly because I like to highlight passages that are meaningful and/or well-written. In my defense, I do use my library’s online loan service but I still have so many unread books, some very promising, languishing on my shelves.

Like author/publisher Susan Hill describes in her marvelous book Howards End is on the Landing, I have dedicated this year as the year I will read only books from my own library, just as she did.

The two bottom bookshelves in my living room have been dedicated for years to books of fiction and this is where I began. The first choice was a pretty little grey book that belonged to my grandmother called Joy Street by Frances Parkinson Keyes. I am not exaggerating when I tell you that I have looked at the spine of this book for over 35 years. The charming title “Joy Street” etched in silver, rings out most joyfully to my eyes on Sunday mornings when I eat my breakfast in the chair that faces the shelves. “Someday I will read that book”.  And so I pulled it off the fiction shelf in January. And I hated it…

Everything about Joy Street seemed promising and rosy…set in Boston which I love, a comforting cloth book (dustjacket long missing), easy to hold in a woman’s hands, not too long, delightful premise of love and family…but I couldn’t get passed the antiquity in some of its wording and ideals. It was truly awful and made me feel depressed. It’s back on the shelf now where it will continue to fulfill its prophesy of winking at me on Sunday mornings. I soon realized the plan to read from my library would not continue if my next selection was another dud.

Many years ago, I accidentally wandered into a book club meeting at my local bookshop. The book being discussed was Off Keck Road by Mona Simpson. When I bought the book that night, I thought I would dive right in but for a silly reason I wasn’t quite aware of until I plucked it from my shelf recently, I think I found the cover very uninspiring. But Off Keck Road was a wonderful compact read. Fast, set in the 1950’s and beyond, it was filled with interesting characters and themes. Success…

I also read Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day by Winifred Watson, a Persephone book that I bought after seeing the film. I may now write a blog post on the resilient and cheeky Miss Pettigrew who I have come to adore so very much. The book takes place during that pivotal pre-war year of 1938 when dark clouds are forming over England and everyone just wants to pretend that nothing is happening. Miss Pettigrew doesn’t just live for a day, she saves the day single-handedly with her pluck and courage.

And now lastly, I have just finished The Scent of Water by Elizabeth Goudge which turned out to be an incredibly imaginative story of renewal and hope. I believe this book was neglected because of other Goudge books I have attempted to read and cast aside. Her language is not for the faint-of-heart reader – it’s thick with imagery and the deep themes of our souls.  The Scent of Water is also about a magical house and garden that lives and breathes on its own and the characters who inhabit its environs, past and present. Little did I know that this book would hold the current place of unsung heroine of my bookshelf.

Hopefully, as the year progresses, I will find even more jewels on my shelves. And yes, I will tell you all about it…