A bookish lockdown

So we're back in lockdown, it's January, it's dark, it's cold.  Not much else to do really is there, except delve into a good book.

One of the dilemmas I enjoy most comes with choosing a new book.  And right now, I've got a million from which to chose.  The best purchase I've made so far this year is Stephen Fry's new book, Troy.  Well, I say purchase - it was actually half price, and with my Waterstones points card covering the balance, I walked out of the Newton Abbot branch with a free book - lovely!  I've also picked up a book I've had my eye on for a while, called In the Reign of King John, a Year in the Life of Plantagenet England - partly because it's stunningly illustrated, I'm really looking forward to getting my teeth into this one.

For Christmas, Lizzie gave me two beautiful Agatha Christie editions - Death on the Nile and Midwinter Murders, although I'll be saving the latter for next Christmas.  I've also been given a book called Forgotten Peoples of the Ancient World, focusing on the myriad civilizations that crowded the Middle East and Mediterranean in ancient times, but who have almost entirely been eclipsed by the Romans, Greeks and Egyptians.  And also along the theme of ancient peoples, I'm really looking forward to reading Wisdom of the Ancients by Neil Oliver - it's a book about the core life lessons we can learn from our ancient ancestors, and given where we are right now in society, it sounds somewhat appropriate. If that's not enough already, I've also got Arsene Wenger's autobiography; My Garden World by Monty Don (which I plan to read as we head into spring, so to whet the appetite for the gardening season ahead); Michael Palin's North Korea Journal; and a book whose blurb simply drew me in, called The Bookseller's Tale, billed as a literary celebration written by a man called Martin Latham, who has run the Canterbury branch of Waterstones for some 30 years. 

There's one more book which I'm really pleased to have got my hands on. Mary-Ann Ochota's Secret Britain is an armchair tour of 75 fascinating archaeological sites and artefacts from around the country, again with beautiful illustration throughout.  As an added bonus, there's quite a number of things in the book that I've not yet seen in person, so this is both a great book and a guide to future adventures.  It's also one of those "dip into" books that I love to grab off the shelf whenever I have 20 minutes to relax - fair to say I'm slightly in love with this one.

But with all these books, which do I tackle first?  Well actually, over Christmas I did something of an audit on my reading habits, and found that I'm very biased towards 20th century literature.  Indeed, there's a huge gap in my reading from the 19th century (you can blame Jane Austen and the insufferable Elizabeth Bennett for that) so I'm very mindful to put that right this year, and as a consequence, I've made 657-page Vanity Fair my lockdown challenge.  If I can get on with it, then it'll really feel that I've achieved something out of this gloomy time - and that's something to hold onto.

Books are very important to me, and the more I progress into my 30s, the more attached I'm becoming to them.  They can take you in all kind of wonderful directions - they're simultaneously an escape, an education, a thought-provoker, they're comedy and tragedy, they can affirm what we already believe but also challenge our thoughts into new perspectives, and yet they fit on our bookshelves, little pent-up boxes of magic, just waiting until you choose them to blow your mind open.  I don't really understand how pages of printed word transform into something so incredible - but at times like this, I'm certainly glad they do.