10 Gift Ideas for Literature Lovers

Happy springtime! I hope you're all enjoying the sunshine and blue sky that we're being graced with here in the UK! Spring time for me marks the beginning of a hectic birthday season; from March to May, it seems that my nearest and dearest have their birthdays, so I have to inflict a rigid timetable of shopping and browsing on myself (pure hell, as you can imagine!) My friends and family also happen to be book lovers, as the best folk tend to be, so I've been trawling for trinkets and gifts that nod to this passion, and I thought I'd share with you a rundown of some bookish gift ideas and online shops for anyone looking to please the bookworms in their lives.

10. Map of Literary Britain and Northern Ireland

I hope my friends and family are reading this, as I am selfishly and ruthlessly angling for one of these, but this map of the British Isle's rich literary heritage will make the hearts of book-nerds skip a beat when they admire it on their wall (preferably above a stuffed bookcase.) 

Find it here at theliterarygiftcompany.com, where you're bound to pick up a few more treasures for the literary-minded.

9. Finger Puppets of their favourite writers

Dostoevsky

Hannah Arendt

Pair these with a bottle of whisky, and you have yourself a fine evening in on birthday week. Collect Jacques Derrida, Hannah Arendt, Kurt Vonnegut, Dostoevsky and Dorthy Parker amongst others. May be the closest I'll ever get to my perfect dinner party line up. 

8. A Classic Book Cover for Kindle 

For your Kindle-living friends, inject a little tactile and visual pleasure into an inferior reading experience. (Ahem.) These are super cute, and come in a range of classic titles from the Theory of Relativity to The Jungle Book, so even if you're reading 50 Shades, you'll look awesome doing it.












7. A T-Shirt from Out of Print clothing

Show your Orwell allegiance, or wear your love of Poe on your chest. I have my eye on the Tropic of Cancer for a friend... Plus their models have steaze, check out this guy showing off his modelling 101 chops. ===> 







6.Book Lust: Recommended Reading for Every Mood, Moment, and Reason

Part of a 'Book Lust' series, this all-in-one volume will prescribe and summarize perfect books to read, as the title suggests, for every mood, and surveys genre, place and theme to point your giftee towards their next favourite book. 

5. DVDs of their favorite adaptations / literary themed films

Maybe a cop out, but the next few months sees lots of releases of adaptations to enjoy. They include, deep breath;

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug, Game of Thrones Season 3 (TV), 12 Years a Slave, The Musketeers (TV), Moonfleet (TV), True Blood Season 6 (TV), Carrie, The Invisible Woman aaaand Kill your Darlings. Hit up Amazon and get your screening on. 

4. An Annual Subscription to Peirene Press

I've previously review the gorgeous Sea of Ink courtesy of this lovely independent London-based publisher of novellas in translation, and luckily for readers, they offer annual subscriptions: 3 books with a theme, each handpicked by staff; with thoughtful threads such as 'Coming of Age', 'Male Dilemma' and 'Turning Point', you're bound to fine one that speaks to your giftee.

3. LiteraryEmporium at Etsy

This delightful store based in Frome, UK specializes in beautiful handmade gifts, with a Classics of literature twist. From sassy badges, to beautiful, delicate necklaces mounted on cards with classic quotes with charms tying in to their theme, you will surely find something really special for to suit fans of  Fitzgerald, Tolkein, Dickinson , Woolf...

2. Penguin Books online store

The daddy of all gift shops for book lovers. As well as well-curated and beautifully presented collections of their titles and specially bound editions, you can buy the classic deckchairs, mugs and prints emblazoned with the covers of their most famous works.

1. Make a donation on behalf of your giftee to a charity battling illiteracy.

What could be a greater gift to anyone than the ability to enjoy a book? There are many charities combating illiteracy worth your time, from BookAid International to Springboard, and for gifts to sisters, mothers, daughters and your girlfriends, check out the many initiatives on Catapult.org that deal with illiteracy in young women globally.

HNY, and Murakami Review for Soapbox Press

Happy 2014 you beautiful readers! Apologies for the sparseness of my blog, I will be writing content soon! In the meanwhile, I reviewed the 1Q84 trilogy by Haruki Murakami for the lovely folks at Winchester based collective Soapbox Press - have a peak - I'm front page! Whoo! Hope y'all enjoy.

http://www.soapboxpress.co.uk/1q84-haruki-murakami

I've just returned from a trip to Amsterdam with amazing people, seeing beautiful things, wandering, drinking frothy beers and stumbling into the greatest bookshops in Europe. Highly recommended: Reisboekhandel for any travel buffs, an amazing space filled to the rafters with every global guide and map you could dream of, and the American Book Center for a great selection of art and fashion books, fiction and graphic novels, with reassuringly creaking floors and shelves. I also snapped my dream library at the Rijks Museum:

In the meantime, I have a few things up my sleeve - reviews of new publications from friends, real and imagined, photos, updates and of course some ranting. Thanks for the support, much love to you and yours, may your bookshelves always be full to busting. 

ps: follow me on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook if you like - I don't do selfies, that's a lifelong promise.

David Gilmour: Teacher of the Year.

You may have heard the outcry from various media outlets about a somewhat ill-advised blog post on the Random House run 'Shelf Esteem' series, posted by Canadian author David Gilmour, who had some veritable pearls of wisdom to share about how he runs his literature course at the University of Toronto. For your reading pleasure, here are the selected highlights:

"I’m not interested in teaching books by women."

"when I was given this job I said I would only teach the people that I truly, truly love. Unfortunately, none of those happen to be Chinese, or women."

"What I teach is guys. Serious heterosexual guys...Real guy-guys."

"I teach only the best."

 I could have expanded on the obvious problem of his spiel, but I won't insult you, and will briefly acknowledge that this man is a sexist tit, and deserves the backlash that he's receiving from those who are not sexist tits. His brand of misogyny is sad and lonely, and about as impotent as the characters that haunt the Philip Roth back catalog that Gilmour loves so much. 

The more insidious issue here is the damaging attitude that he inflicts on his students; that his personal taste, the narrow binary of like and dislike, is the criteria on which a work can be judged as worth teaching. Anyone who has been a serious student of anything, be it literature, architecture or astrophysics could see that this is a ridiculous approach. True education is doing what you can to piece together everything to attain understanding of a work or a concept. 

One of my wisest lecturers at university made a point of sculpting the reading lists of his courses by unique merits or flaws in a text; a frequently introduced his classes saying: 'I hate this book. But this is why it's important...' Some of my own most rewarding reading experiences have been with books that I've thrown on the floor, or thoroughly defaced. I can hate a book, but truly love the friction or jarring it creates. Reading something that goes against what feels natural or comfortable is a contrary, but vital pleasure. 

And this, surely is the ultimate point of art: to immerse yourself fully into the psyche of someone else. For me, reading is a huge ethical push - it's a sustained exercise in empathy. To alienate sections of literature, just because it's not to your taste, is a crime when you're teaching; if critics just worked on books that they liked, literary academia would cannibalize itself. 

Personally, if I was Gilmour's student, I'd take a look at his reading list, roll my eyes, and undertake some serious self-persuasion to actually do the reading and go to the lectures instead of slink to the pub. But then I'd be a narrow-minded and, frankly, poor reader like him, which is more depressing than a few months reading Roth and Fitzgerald. So, Mr Gilmour, pick up a few Atwood novels, maybe some Toni Morrison, and set a better example to people who should throw their arms and minds open to things beyond their own taste. 

And remember....

Hilary Mantel at the Oxford Literary Festival

On Sunday evening, I was lucky enough to see Hilary Mantel (who I often mention on this blog) speak to a packed out crowd at the beautiful Sheldonian theatre as part of the Oxford Literary Festival. She closed what I imagine to have been an amazing string of lectures and talks in spectacular style. Introduced by, and in conversation with the current Bodley librarian Sarah Thomas (the first American, and also the first woman to hold this post), Mantel talked about the series that has brought her most critical acclaim, the Wolf Hall trilogy.

She opened with an extract from the second novel, Bring Out the Bodies, in which Henry VIII's court is brought to an eerie state by Anne Boleyn's decline. Her successor, Jane Seymour is being prepared for her own ascent, in a quietly brutal scene in which her mother dresses her hair with the elaborately and painfully pinned, but apparently puritanical headdress we often see in artistic depictions of her.
Mantel developed this into a consideration of character and visibility; how the outward signs and costumes, both physical and metaphorical, inform narrative. Talking about her protagonist, Thomas Cromwell, she described the process of delving beneath the history and research in order to create a man, above all. She also had some spoilers for the audience for the final installment, The Mirror and the Light, but as I'm a greedy and selfish person, I'll let you find those out from more generous attendees...

She also stressed the importance of books very graciously in the light of being honoured by the Bodley library, one of the most beautiful and important public libraries in the world. Describing fiction as a conversation between the dead and the living, and the living and the dead, she stressed the vitality of the written word, and the book as alive; always lovely to hear in backlash to the digital panic.

If you ever get the chance to hear Mantel speak, leap at it. She had the audience thoroughly engaged; you got the sense of how important a writer she has become, and a sense of the kind of legacy she will leave. I felt really moved by the presentation of the Bodley Medal, which honours outstanding communicators and writers in the literary field, previously awarded to writers such as Seamus Heaney, Alan Bennett, and P.D. James.

If you haven't read Mantel's work, go ahead. Now! I would particularly recommend A Place of Greater Safety, a proper epic about the French Revolution, or Fludd, a quirky novella about a crumbling Northern church.

Hilary, I love you. We should grab an Earl Grey sometime.

Chichester: Book City

Chichester, West Sussex is twenty minutes from my family home, and a city I know and love well. It's most famous for it's world-renowned Festival Theatre, which has been the springboard for some of the best recieved shows at the West End, and launched the careers of countless writers, actors and directors.

As a city, it's as compact as you can get - you can cover the centre in one ten minute stride.

Drama may be the lifeblood of Chichester, but it boasts some respectable literary links. One of my favourite spaces in Chichester is the stunning Cathedral, which features some truly beautiful modern art inside. A famous site is the Arundel Tomb - a sarcophagus of the tenth earl of Arundel and his wife - unique in that they're depicted holding hands. It inspired one of Philip Larkin's most famous poems, mounted by the side of it.

Aside from the well-stocked Waterstones on West Street, which a particularly good local interests section, and an inviting upstairs well laid out for a few hours sneaky reading, there's the brilliant second hand shop Kim's Bookshop on South Street (the original town planners didn't have a flair for street names). I've found some beautiful editions of classics; there's a lovely section of illustrated botanical tomes, and a great pulpy selection. It strikes the balance between facilitating the functional, determined bookshopper with serious search designs, and the casual browser, needing that element of chaos and the unexpected delight of finding something bizarre.

If you can get to Chichester, and have a day to spare, visit. It's great for shopping, for modern art (check out the Pallant House Gallery for some impressive exhibitions) and music; Antony Hegarty of Antony and the Johnson's grew up in Chichester, and every day on the streets you can see talented folk living up to his precedent. But what I like most about Chichester (predictably enough) is that it's a great city for readers; plenty of green spaces, tucked away corners and coffee shops for reading and talking books. My favourite reading space in the city is in front of the statue of St Richard at the front of the Cathedral - I think he would approve.

Happy New Year!

Just a quick post to confirm that I have successfully dug myself out of the mound of Quality Streets and rasberry vodka I ensconsed myself in over christmas, much like Smaug in dwarvish treasure, and will be welcoming in 2013 with some new posts very soon.

Happy new year to everyone who's been brilliant enough to read my blog.

x

Twitter Fiction Festival - yay or nay?

Later on today sees the launch of a new 'Twitter Fiction Festival', as announced on the official Twitter Blog from the 18th October. The microblogging giant has been recruiting both professional and amateur writers to collaborate on a number of projects taking place today. For the curious, they've set up a dedicated page: https://twitter.com/hashtag/twitterfiction - so log on and have a look!
Among these online events are TwitMashes hosted by South African writer Lauren Beaukes, and author Jennifer Wilson is inviting followers to help her generate stories from a series of photographs of graves.

Twitter seems to be gaining in popularity with writers; frequent literary tweeters include Ben Okri, Margaret Atwood and Neil Gaiman (all worth a follow!) There's no denying that it's a great platform for writers: any promotional work for an audience of millions is a positive thing at a time when the financial climate is as tough as it it. But aside from promotion and contact with readers, is Twitter an appropriate medium for literature itself?

In the early 90s and turn of the millenium, the possibilities for harnessing the power of the internet for writing seemed endless. Hypertext author Shelley Jackson notablly spawned many of her projects via her website, integrating writing with visuals and hyperlink - her most famous work 'Patchwork Girl' is a great example of this hybrid form, and well worth a read.

My own problem with Twitter is that although it's great for collaboration and immediacy, it's also hugely limiting. From my own point of view, I feel that literature needs space for possibility; although I can appreciate that it also forces the kind of constraints that can make great literature. After all, some of the greatest short stories ever written are under two pages long; and of course the Haiku form is one of the most culturally pervasive of all poetical forms.

What is your take on this Twitter festival? Is it possible to create something great in 150 characters? For now, I'll reserve judgement. Tweet tweet.

(You can follow me on Twitter @JessicaEOliver. I promise not to tweet any bad poetry.)

Review: 'Housekeeping' by Marilynne Robinson

I can't believe it's late November already...I'm living in a very cold and blustery Oxford with some very chapped lips and hands! At this time every year, in the seasonal slump where the golden autumn comes to an end for a starker chill, I like to find a book to match this transitional mood. My mum came up trumps with this recommendation: Marilynne Robinson's debut novel Housekeeping, much lauded on its publication in 1980.

Set in a fictional Northwest town in the mountain called Fingerbone, the novel tells the tale of two lonely sisters, passed from generation to generation of their female relatives following their mother's suicide. It's a novel that is crystalline in it's beauty of language: every sentence runs as deep as the lake that forms the centre of the sister's physical and emotional landscape. Friends are few and far between; it's a lonely world. The title mirrors the falsities and pretences of each domestic setup: whether it's their frail grandma or their fragilely-minded aunt Sylvie, the girls cannot overcome the deep sense of transience and loneliness.

If this sounds negative, it's not meant to be: this is a beautiful and resonant book, that treats life and human relationships with a sacred seriousness. It's quite astonishing - you get such a whole and sustained vision of Ruth and Lucille's narrow, bleak yet compelling world. 
This book reminds me a great deal of Margaret Atwood's novella 'Surfacing', with its aqueous prose and probings into female power and relationships. I'm quite sure that the makers of the film Winter's Bone have read and loved this novel - it shares a rural toughness, and a reliance on strong female presence with the film that make both works astonishing. 

If you haven't read this, I would highly recommend it. I'm going on a hunt for some more Marilynne Robinson. I think I may have found my new favourite author that everyone has been one step ahead about. Cheers Mum.  

Blogs to follow!

Thought I'd share a little blog love with you all....

Soapbox Press: http://soapboxpress.wordpress.com/

Started by students at Winchester School of Art, this features book reviews, interview and lovely things about the art and fashion worlds. It's beautifully laid out (as you'd expect!), and currently seeking submissions. I predict a big following!

Life in Publishing :http://lifeinpublishing.tumblr.com/

For anyone in publishing or looking to get in, this is essentially a summary of daily life in the industry in meme form. Sent to me by a colleague, it's made me chuckle at my desk a lot.

Little Words: http://littlewordsreview.wordpress.com/

I love browsing this blog - she's a fellow books blogger, and she's recently posted some great theatre reviews with lots of pictures.

The Flaneur - http://flaneur.me.uk/

I write for this blog myself - check the link in the left-hand pane. It's a really fascinating melting pot of free-for-all writing with pretty much everything your heart could desire from independent arts writing. There are many posts a day, and you're sure to find something great: from film reviews to artists interviewing themselves.

Happy reading!

x

How do you cope with a really disappointing book?

When I picked up The Master and Margarita by Mikhail Bulgakov, I was sure I was on to a winner. Russian novelist? Brilliant. Magic Realism? Check my bookshelf – it’s stuffed with it. The devil appearing as an undercover character? Love it. Talking cat – don’t even need to say it. So on opening my battered copy, I was excited. 

A hundred pages in – I couldn’t care less. So I stopped reading it. I can’t explain to you why – maybe the cultural nuances failed to translate for me, maybe there were too many subversive Russian male poets called Nikolayevich – but I couldn’t summon any enthusiasm for it.

Actually coming to a point of not wanting to finish a book has happened to me many, many times before – I do have an English degree after all, and my lecturers seemed to have a particular enthusiasm for Joseph Conrad – but abandoning a book that seemed like it would be amazing is a terrible feeling. I’ve found myself in a grip of self-doubt: what if it’s me, not the book? Is it my own ignorance and philistine brain that’s holding me back from loving this book? THERE’S A CAT WHO POURS HIMSELF VODKA - there is literally nothing on this earth that makes me more excited than that prospect.

This doesn’t often happen with me. When I think I’m going to like a book, having a rough idea of what it’s all about, I usually do. Things I think I’ll hate, I usually do – case in point, Charles Bukowski’s Ham on Rye – if you’re an angry young man who likes smacking people around and don’t much like women, knock yourself out. I entered into Bukowski's grimy world fully aware that it would not agree with me. But this? Awful.

So I’m feeling bruised and sore. It feels like being rejected by a boy at a school disco. Damn you Mikhail!

Have you experienced this? Am I blowing this out of proportion, or do you feel bad when you give up on a book that promised so much, and failed to deliver for you?