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Posts archive for: January, 2006
  • Sarah Waters is the one with the pen

    .

    Lots of hot author action in the shop today. First of all we had Sarah Waters in signing copies of her latest, Night Watch, which is the Crockatt & Powell book of the month, as well as Tipping the Velvet in paperback. We're selling Night Watch for a limited period at £12.99 (down from £16.99) and if you want a signed copy you will have to be super speedy as a hot cake stall couldn't keep up with our sales. Then Nick McDonell, author of Twelve, was passing through and spontaneously offered to sign his latest, The Third Brother - McDonell as a rule does not do signings, so again, if you want a copy, best get your skates on. Lastly we had it confirmed that James Meek will be stopping by on Friday to sign copies of the paperback of his Booker-longlisted People's Act of Love - massively critically acclaimed and one of Matthew's faves from last year. All only available while stocks last - but if you'd like to reserve a copy before they disappear you can e-mail us on info@crockattpowell.com

  • Life - Scott - Marie - Etc

    Well it continues - day after bleeding day - Life - and the Lessons...

    This morning an e-mail. From Scott Pack. Yes him. The Evil One. (For new readers check the early posts where I boldly challange Scott Pack - Waterwotsit's chief buyer to an "actual" fight)

    I have learned two things.

    1: There is nowhere to hide on the internet. Everything you say is recorded in stone and kept to be used as evidence against you.

    2: Scott Pack is clearly a top bloke - with a sense of humour and everything...

    We want you to be EVIL Scott! We need to feed off your EVIL so that we feel GOOD.

    Bollocks of course. Never black and white is it?

    So if in future (after the latest dose of "celebrity" Big B surely anything is possible) you come across Scott and I trading weedy slaps on TV just remember this - it's not what it seems. It is just a publicity stunt and after the fisticuffs we are probably in the pub having a few drinks on someone else's expense account...

    And Flashing Helmet - before you start - I thought I was making you up!

    PS As you might have noticed, Marie started work today. We now have soap and everything. (Legend has it that soap is useful for cleaning things.) It's good to have some oestrogen in the place - HELLO and WELCOME to the C & P family...

  • boys! boys! boys!

    I'm here! I'm here! It's so exciting! Most pleasing development: the men are much better looking in this shop than I'm used to (and I'm not just talking about the staff.) The shop I worked in before had a specialist clientele of the over-70s, which is certainly not the case here. Here we get proper blokes who haven't retired! Men in their thirties who read! My favourite kind! I have been getting all flustered, trying to impress with my recommendations and then forgetting how to use the till. Not a good look. Tomorrow I may wear lipstick, who knows.

    Oh yeah, and have sold some books, and stuff.

  • don't believe the tripe

    In a sad day for literature, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, undoubtedly one of the world's greatest living writers, has announced his retirement from novel writing.

    I was trawling the net for some more information about this and I found a letter that Marquez, who has cancer, supposedly wrote to say farewell to his friends. My god. It was so awful. Kind of like one of those "wear sunscreen" chain letters. If this is the kind of crap he is coming out with these days, I thought, he is doing us all a favour by retiring, and I'll just reread Love in the Time of Cholera, thanks. Surely, it can't be real, I thought. Surely, surely, surely.

    It isn't.

    This is what Marquez had to say about it:

    "The only thing that worries me is that I'll die with the shame that people believe I wrote something so tasteless. I read it not long ago and what surprises me most is that my readers could believe that it was written by me."

    And if, just for the yuk factor, you want to read the horrible thing itself, you can find it here.

    As for the his real words, Marquez is often argued to have written the best opening line in the history of literature, from One Hundred Years of Solitude:

    "Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice."

    And now it seems he has written his last words too, in fiction anyway. We can only hope that he stays true to his promise and completes the second and third volumes of his autobiography.

  • Eye and I (oh blimey!)

    The Prophet returned and, as the shop was empty, I got a right earful.

    (For new readers check the start of the blog for first impressions of I and I.)

    "Hello my brother..." that's how it always starts. But I was wrong about Mary Jane and her elevating properties. No - he's anti-rasta. "They sing about peace and love but nowhere does God ever say fill your body wit smoke!"

    You guessed it - he's born again. "I used to smoke, drink, take drugs, chase women and then one day the Lord..." I am still smiling and nodding but my face hurts by now.

    He had an interesting comment to add to the great Britishness debate though. According to Eye and I (He has a third eye under his hat with which he SEES the truth!) the word British is derived of two Hebrew words - Brit and Ish.

    Brit means Contract or covenant while Ish means Man - so British means something like the Covenant of Man. Someone should tell Gordon eh?

    I have to confess to having a soft spot for the guy. (I can hear Adam groaning somewhere!) He showed me pics of his kids and also spoke about where he grew up - in a hut in Jamaica.

    A confused man certainly but also a man who is trying, in his own way, to make the world a better place.

    His final words as I explained that, despite all evidence to the contrary, I was busy were:

    "Next time you see me brother you will break down and cry - because you will have realised I WAS RIGHT!"

    We'll see...

  • i heart books

    Over on my other blog, I recently did a meme, one of the questions of which was to name seven books that I love.

    Tricky.

    As it turns out, there is a huge difference between naming books that you love and books that you think are great works of literature. If I had been asked about the latter, I would have come up with a very impressive list, featuring plenty of the usual suspects (Dickens et al) with maybe a few modern classics thrown in (e.g. Underworld) and you would have all been bowled over by my stunning intellect and wide range of literary interests. And I would have enjoyed all the books that I'd named; it wouldn't have been a lie.

    But love is different. It's personal. As we all know from looking at the person we wake up next to (or wish we woke up next to), it embraces flaws. Some people will never understand what we love.

    In the end, this is the embarrassingly unliterary, unintellectual list that I came up with. I don't know if it's the seven books I love the most, but it gives you a fair idea of what my heart, not my head, wants to read:

    - Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
    - A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
    - Tales of the City - Armistead Maupin
    - Once More With Feeling - Victoria Coren and Charlie Skelton
    - Cat's Eye - Margaret Atwood
    - Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
    - Frog In Winter - Max Velthuijs

    So, go on. Which books do you love?

  • Weird Book Incidents

    A few years ago I got into the habit of opening books I had read recently, sticking a finger on the page and reading what was written there. It was just something I started doing. I don't know why.

    One night I picked up Iain Sinclair's Downriver. I had found the book fascinating but hadn't actually finished it. I often find his fiction rather wears me down - I prefer the psychogeography. But I digress.

    I opened the book and saw the following written beneath the tip of my index finger.

    Death is like stabbing your finger at random into an open book.

    I don't believe in all that Jazz but...kind of weird?

    Can you top it?

    (The sentence in question is 2/3 of the way down page 386 - I have the place marked with a receipt from Habitat in Hammersmith dated Nov 2000. )

    www.crockattpowell.com

  • black holes, whales and the lib-dems...

    On the subject of astronomy and the lib dems spectacular supernova-esque career suicide soon to become a political black hole of the heaviest magnitude out of which no media light will shine for a billion years...

    ...but, did the appearance of the whale in our waters last week have anything to do with libdems current beaching? Whales are notorious for losing their sense of direction and commiting mass suicide...

    ...and was it just a coincidence that the london whale was attempting to 'Go West' before it was 'rescued', smothered in vaseline and hosed down before being put out of it's misery in the icy shallows of the big drink...

  • Scientists - What are you like?

    Well the arts may be dying and here's the perfect reason they need to be kept alive.

    A new "earth-like" planet is discovered.

    Literature (particularly sci-fi) is full of other planets with cool names:

    Thalassa - Arthur C Clarke

    Salusa Secundus from Frank Herbert

    Magrathea from Hitch-hiker's guide

    Pern - Anne McCaffrey

    What do scientists call this new "earth like" planet?

    OGLE-2005-BLG-390Lb

    Scientists - what are you like!

  • a farewell to arts

    Reading the local newspaper where I currently am staying in Dorset, I come across the following, in a column by a local resident:

    "The District Council last year held a meeting to allocate a windfall fund that had come their way. I was there to get some of it for film festival shows, so suggested that they include some to support the arts. I realised the hopelessness of my case when the District Councillor said that in his opinion there was already adequate arts provision in Purbeck for it contained several shooting clubs."

    No wonder we are seeing the disappearance of our local theatres, cinemas and (yes) bookshops. Sometimes I feel very privileged to live in London.

  • Cue bad singing...

    I dunno, sometimes customer service is a thankless task...

    Lady comes in wanting a book - it is re-printing, new edition not due for months. Go into 90% of the bookshops in the country and you will get a "computer says no" style response. It is reprinting. We can't get it.

    Come into Crockatt & Powell!

    We got a second-hand copy for the lady NEXT DAY -

    AIN'T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH...etc

    Was she pleased?

    Oh yeah thanks...she says...

    (PS If said lady is reading this then this post is a work of fiction, any similarity to situations you may have recntly experienced is entirely co-incidental etc - same goes for my mate Flashing Helmet - If you are really real then I apologise! I thought I was making you up...)

    YES! We just sold a copy of my uncle's poetry book Blizzards of the Inner Eye!

  • comments

    Apparently there is a problem with commenting at the moment - will try to get it sorted. Apologies for any frustration.

    Meanwhile it appears that Flashing Helmet Guy has been spotted further afield! Please keep us posted with any further sightings - either via comments if you can, or by e-mail - crockattpowell@tiscali.co.uk .

    UPDATE: Problem solved I think - try commenting without putting in the code (that's just for trackback.) Please could someone comment and let me know!

    UPDATE TO THE UPDATE: Thanks Alexander - apparently the way to do it is to use the comments code (didn't realise there was one, they don't ask me for it because it's my site) but also to make sure you have something in every field that they ask for (URL etc.) Any good?

    UPDATE TO THE UPDATE TO THE UPDATE: And using the Preview function doesn't seem to help matters...

  • spurling the master

    Delighted to see Hilary Spurling's exceptional Matisse the Master win this year's Whitbread Book of the Year - and indeed the last Whitbread Book of the Year, as they are now shopping for a new sponsor (any suggestions as to whom should take it on? Personally I've never liked the Man Booker, as it suggests that only a man could win it - maybe in the interests of fairness, we should have the Feminax Book of the Year?) You may recall that certain literary experts always thought that she had it in her. Personally I've been a Spurling fan ever since I listened to her brilliant audio commentary (usually they send me to sleep) for the Matisse: His Art and His Textiles exhibition at the Royal Academy - itself a fantastic show. Fascinating, insightful, exhaustive yet clear. An entirely well-deserved win.

  • Cool Blue Train Ride

    Peter Hobbs is the first of what I hope will become a host of new and interesting writers who will be reading at Crockatt & Powell as part of our events program. We are passionate about books, well probably a bit too passionate really, but WE CARE we REALLY REALLY CARE...

    Ok, you probably get the message.

    So what can we do to tempt you cyber hoardes down to the Marsh? We aim to pack the place out on Feb 28th. This will send out a message to publishers that Crockatt & Powell events ROCK and that their hot new star MUST read there...

    It won't be boring. There are loads of pubs around so the night can continue long after the bookshop closes (for those with stamina) and lovely places to eat (for the more civilised) and lots of transport links (for those with young children, jobs to get up for, TV programs to watch)

    Support the events now and things will go from strength to strength. As I said in one of the earliest posts this is not just about selling books it's about adding something to London culture.

    It's not about hype, Crockatt & Powell's main aim has been from the start and always will be a simple one - we want to get people reading great books. That's it. Pete is reading because I thought The Short Day Dying was among the finest debut novels I have read.

    So E-mail Marie on crockattpowell@tiscali.co.uk and book your place on Pete's Cool Blue Train - it's going to be quite a ride...

    You can read a review of Pete's first novel, The Short Day Dying, here.

    (Whitbread Shortlisted Peter Hobbs reads at Crockatt & Powell on Tuesday Feb 28th at 7pm)

  • mind control

    I have a few different e-mail addresses for different functions, but for some reason the one that gets the most junk mail is the Crockatt & Powell one.

    Today I receive the following:

    ATTRACT ANY WOMAN OR MAN WITH POWER SEDUCTION! A Revolutionary Mind Control Method Attract women with increased charisma !!! Attract all the romance you desire. Remotely! Master remote hypnosis techniques. Size up and influence any person. Successfully demand a raise from your boss. Entrance and attract any woman or man with mind power seduction.

    Reading it I can't help but think: does this have anything to do with Flashing Helmet Guy?

  • Invitation from Zembla and More Pete Hobbs

    Fellow lovers of literature Zembla are putting on this night at the V & A on Friday. As you will notice there's an exclusive story from Pete Hobbs involved...He really is a rising star you know!

    Born Free at the Victoria & Albert Museum
    Friday, 27th of January, 18:30 - 22.00
    Free Entry

    For their late-night opening of the V&A on the last Friday of this month, the editorial and design teams behind Zembla Magazine have created a one-off literary tour through the museum. You will be able to pick up a booklet at the entrance and then roam the galleries while reading site-specific stories by novelists Nicholas Royle, Lucy Caldwell, Peter Hobbs and Shiromi Pinto.

    On the night, there will also be a workshop, a short film festival, as well as music and drinks.

    It would be a pleasure to see you there.

    With best wishes,

    Philip Oltermann & Dan Crowe

  • The Night Watch

    Sarah Waters, local and also brilliant author (Fingersmith, Tipping the Velvet etc) has got a new novel out at the beginning of February, The Night Watch, set in World War Two in London. I've not had the chance to read it yet - though believe me, I will - but according to this glowing review from the Guardian it's "magically convincing... beautifully judged and discreetly virtuosic... a truthful, lovely book." So it's just as well we're going to have a stack of signed copies for you to buy as of January 31st.

    A reminder of our other events: Whitbread-shortlisted Peter Hobbs is reading from I Could Ride All Day In My Cool Blue Train on Tuesday February 28th at 7pm, and our first bookgroup meeting in on Monday February 6th, also at 7pm - we will be discussing Orhan Pamuk's Snow. For Pete Hobbs you need to reserve your space from crockattpowell@tiscali.co.uk , but for the bookgroup, just show up, and if you fancy a tipple, bring a bottle with you.

  • Flashing Helmet

    The prophet returns:

    "Do you have any K - Moose?"

    K - Moose? What the hell is that? (I am still getting my head around the tragic death of the London Whale. Among other indignities the poor beast was slathered with KY jelly. Try Boots down the road I am thinking.)

    He stands in the doorway, helmet flashing, head tilted to one side...

    Oh...of course...Camus...

    Naturally we have just about everything Camus wrote in stock. The outback alien stands there and examines the shelves.

    "I need a copy of the Plague. I've got one at 'ome somewhere but there's words missing, someone tore through a couple of the pages..."

    For a moment I think he might actually be about to make a purchase. But no. He's run out of money and will have to come back. On the way out he notices a card with two kittens playing on it. He stops.

    "I like that card."

    Then he is gone, into the night. His helmet has different coloured lights on. I thought they were all red but there are yellow and green ones too.

    The saga continues!

  • Questions you should not ask at C & P

    No 1 in a series:

    What do you specialize in?

    Sounds innocent? WRONG!

    This is a question right out of the late 80s early 90s, from the days when the big W was a pretty decent chain of bookshops and had pretty much wiped the general local bookshop off the face of town centres everywhere.

    Specialisation was the key. Find a niche - cook books, travel, windsurfing, potatoes, watch-straps - whatever, and hide yourself in it. When the punters asked for a book that fell outside of the narrow confines of the subject in which your shop was the Expert Specialist you could scream WE DON'T HAVE IT BECAUSE WE ARE A COOK BOOK/TRAVEL/WINDSURFING/POTATOES/WATCH-STRAP BOOKSHOP! ! ! ! !

    Said punter would then retreat in humiliated silence and never darken the doors of yr establishment again.

    Crockatt & Powell does not specialize in any thing in particular. We have a SELECTION of great books in the shop. Beyond that WE CAN GET YOU ANYTHING in or out of print...usually in 24hours, always within a week or so...

    To all you men (Why is it always men that ask these passive/aggressive questions?) with your little backpacks and droopy comb-overs (Yeah YOU!) don't do it...when the mouth opens...shut it again...

    PS That goes for all of the people who have wished us GOOD LUCK in a loaded fashion that, reading between the lines, clearly means FAIL SOON!

    OK Rant over...

    (If you come early you can hear Adam and I singing our C & P motivational song. Soon, very soon, Marie will add a soprano...It goes a little something like this: Customer service is the key, we love you all, without you we would be ranting madly on the street, Have a Nice Day)

  • Pamuk off Hook

    Orhan Pamuk escapes from his trial nightmare - YAY!

    http://news.independent.co.uk/europe/article340466.ece

  • what's in a name?

    Another writer with the same name as me recently tracked me down and sent me a nice message to say hi, thus sending me into an instant spiral of panic and self-doubt. Obviously, you can hate your parents if they are stupid enough to call you Charles Dickens, but there's not much you or they can do about people with your name getting famous in your own lifetime. Right now there must be a fair few pissed-off Mark Oatens wondering around, trying to get by in their day-to-day lives of insurance assessment without having the piss ripped out of them constantly. I somehow feel it's even worse if said namesake succeeds in your own field. Pity the poor Saturday league footballer named David Beckham, the aspiring singer called Madonna Louise Ciccone (well maybe not).

    In writing it's the worst of all because so few writers have faces to their names. If you want to publish a novel and your name is Margaret Atwood, but you're not *the* Margaret Atwood, tough luck. You are changing your name, and don't expect anyone from your past to find that novel and think, wow, my old friend has fulfilled her dream and become an author. And in an industry where every reader counts, those twenty-six primary school chums who won't pick up your novel out of sheer curiosity and to see if they are in it (that's the first thing everyone wants to know - you know, there is a reason they call it fiction - never mind), well, you and your agent will feel it hard in your pockets.

    So in short, no, I'm not delighted to see that another aspiring author and I are in a race to see who gets to put our own name on the book jacket. Still, when I'm forced bring my book out as cpmarie, at least you lot will all know it's me and pick up a copy, right? Right?

  • Found Sentences

    I walk to work, forty minutes through the back streets of Southwark, then Lambeth. Today I decided I would record what the city had to say for itself, making a note of any signs or sentences scrawled on walls that caught my attention - an Iain Sinclairesque idea...

    Man and Van for Hire

    Porn Star on Board

    Multi-Cultural Gardens Information Centre

    Best in all beauty and cosmetics - Human and Synthetic hair

    Powered by L P G for a cleaner environment

    This year Sicily will speak to you through theatre

    Hmmm...any psychogeographers out there who can enlighten me?

  • Hunger

    God I am hungry...It's 18:05 and we close at 19:00...

    I was too busy to eat lunch today, just munched a couple of small pieces of fruit.

    Later my wife is coming in and we are going to eat Japanese food at the Japanese cafe over the road. Then we are going across the river to a friend's art ting where there is free beer all night.

    So things are looking good in the near future but right now I am really hungry. My stomach keeps rumbling loudly and, though we have a bit of jazz on in the background, it is not quite enough to hush the grumbles.

    Puts me in mind of the classic Hunger by Knut Hamsun. Marie refers to herself as Strugglingauthor but the narrator in Hunger is the ultimate - he barely survives on the few words he manages to get published and hallucinates his way through the streets of Oslo. A great read.

  • Whales?

    weird

    http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/london/4631396.stm

  • Cool Blue Train Ride

    Peter Hobbs is the first of what I hope will become a host of new and interesting writers who will be reading at Crockatt & Powell as part of our events program. We are passionate about books, well probably a bit too passionate really, but WE CARE we REALLY REALLY CARE...

    Ok, you probably get the message.

    So what can we do to tempt you cyber hoardes down to the Marsh? We aim to pack the place out on Feb 28th. This will send out a message to publishers that Crockatt & Powell events ROCK and that their hot new star MUST read there...

    It won't be boring. There are loads of pubs around so the night can continue long after the bookshop closes (for those with stamina) and lovely places to eat (for the more civilised) and lots of transport links (for those with young children, jobs to get up for, TV programs to watch)

    Support the events now and things will go from strength to strength. As I said in one of the earliest posts this is not just about selling books it's about adding something to London culture.

    It's not about hype, Crockatt & Powell's main aim has been from the start and always will be a simple one - we want to get people reading great books. That's it. Pete is reading because I thought The Short Day Dying was among the finest debut novels I have read.

    So E-mail Marie on crockattpowell@tiscali.co.uk and book your place on Pete's Cool Blue Train - it's going to be quite a ride...

    You can read a review of Pete's first novel, The Short Day Dying, here.

    (Whitbread Shortlisted Peter Hobbs reads at Crockatt & Powell on Tuesday Feb 28th at 7pm)

  • don't even know why i brought it up

    Just thought I'd mention, casually, y'know, not for any particular reason, or anything, that Time Out is running a poll for the best independent bookshops in London. I mean, god knows why I thought it worth mentioning, because obviously we don't care if we get nominated or not, etc, but just in case you can think of a deserving shop, the e-mail address is bookshops@timeout.com but hey, no skin off our nose if we don't get nominated, it's not like it means anything or that we're desperate for a mention in Time Out.

    Oh go on. Pleeeeeeeeease.

    [for some reason that e-mail address is coming up weird, but I'm sure you can figure it out, if you need to, for any reason.]

  • Too Damn Busy To Blog!

    I dunno - you open a bookshop so as to sit on yer arse all day reading and call it "work" and whaddayouknow?

    You lot love it so much we're kept too busy to blog...

    (Thanks People!)

    * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

    (That was time passing)

    I'm home now and still working. Nobody said this was going to be easy but I kind of hoped it would be! (I was always the lazy kid - not the bad kid, they were kind of cool - I was the dull but lazy type who came out with weird shit in class)

    Have a look at the newsletter on the website. There are now links so that you can find out more about the authors we feature. Cool huh? Not impressed? Oh too cruel!

    The website has all sorts of hidden nooks you know.

    "Seek and ye shall find" as God or someone once said...

    Same goes for the bookshop. As Skuds found out there are all sorts of gems awaiting your discovery. (And soon Marie!) But you got to WORK and FIND em see...

  • Peter Hobbs event Feb 28th

    Very excited as we've just confirmed that the lovely and very talented Peter Hobbs will be doing a reading for us on Tuesday February 28th at 7pm. Pete was shortlisted for this year's Whitbread First Novel Award with his excellent "The Short Day Dying" and will be reading from his forthcoming short story collection, "I Could Ride All Day In My Cool Blue Train." We in the shop have had a sneaky preview peek at it and it looks fantastic. It's got zebras in it. What more could you want? The event is free and tickets must be reserved from me, Marie, at crockattpowell@tiscali.co.uk . Cancel all your plans and write it into your diary in fat black marker pen, ruining the page below.

  • word spreads

    Looky look! We got a review! Thanks Skuds. He seems pretty content despite the lack of Brookmyre (any recommendation as to which of his in particular we should stock?) That bit of graffiti he mentions on the side wall has a Banksy-like quality that I think should be preserved - we sadly had to paint over a similarly Banksy-like Moomin on the front of the shop.

    Anyway I particularly appreciated this:

    "When I went to pay for the book, the chap pointed out that Gladwell has a new book about to come out. (Blink - out tomorrow in hardback) I did already know that, but its still good to get a bit of conversation and a relevant and useful recommendation at the checkout."

    I think that's what we're all about really.

    If anyone is wondering why he didn't mention the really foxy chick behind the counter, that's because I don't start til January 30th. Set your watches lads!

    Anyway Skuds, thanks for coming by and for the write-up. We do appreciate it.

  • Is it just me...

    Or does anyone else find they regularly identify with the wrong characters in a book (or on TV)?

    I have recently been introduced to Curb Your Enthusiasm the new (ish) show from Larry David. I am always doing the kind of dumb things Larry does, the wrong words pile out of my mouth. I was sitting watching the second episode with my wife and she was saying how sorry she felt for Larry David's wife and I was thinking - but he's just like me!

    I also started drinking J & B because that was Patrick Bateman's preferred tipple in American Psycho...

    I found We Need To Talk About Kevin laugh out loud funny. Yes. A book about shooting your school friends...

    I'm in good company though. When Milton wrote Paradise Lost he made the Devil so much cooler than God - to the extent that local SE1 author Bill Blake commented that "The reason Milton wrote in fetters when he wrote of Angels & God, and at liberty when of Devils & Hell, is because he was a true Poet and of the Devil's party without knowing it."

    Maybe that's it...I'm a Poet!

    (See below for Flashing Helmet - My homage to William Carlos Williams)

  • Rapture

    Well done to Carol Ann Duffy for winning the TS Eliot prize for poetry.

  • web away

    Haven't been posting these last few days as I've been trying to come to grips with the shop website. The content is growing and I've been doing that most unprofessional of things and letting anyone keep track of progress by uploading what I've done as I go along. I know you're supposed to leave a sign on the site saying 'Under Construction' and then voila, a beautiful and fully formed piece of web magic appears but I like process - sketchbooks, drawings on napkins, doodles. Also, any comments or suggestions would be welcome even though they'll be likely ignored.

    I know all you web purists out there will think it's a real dog's dinner of a site but as I'm still in web kindergarden, I'm playing in the sandbox so leave me alone.

    A word of warning for anyone intending on undertaking their own website - when you sit at your computer you enter some kind of gap in the space time continuum, you disappear and you won't re-emerge for many, many hours...

    www.crockattpowell.com

  • Sarah Waters

    Have recently discovered Sarah Waters lives in Kennington - just down the road from the shop!

    Even more recently (7:30 this evening) attended a reading from her new novel The Night Watch, published by Virago on 2nd Feb.

    Book sounds brilliant. She read a passage set during the blitz - very evocative and moving as a female ambulance driver goes to investigate a bombed house - and another section about drinking by the river in Hammersmith...

    It just so happens I was myself drinking by the river in Hammersmith this weekend (after watching the mighty cottagers defeat the capital allergic geordies 1 - 0).

    There were lots of folk in the audience who were resident in Kennington during the blitz and who remembered and were clearly moved by the scenes described. When asked if she had relied on primary sources for her research or spoken to people who were there at the time, Sarah Waters had some interesting points to make. She said she used mostly diaries written at the time and other primary sources for research but then let people read the manuscript. If there were sections that did not ring true she would change them but - most interestingly - some of the things she was picked up on by her readers DID happen but had been altered in people's memories over the years. On several occasions she had to lead people back to the primary sources to show that their memories were innacurate. I thought this was beautiful evidence of the way in which we are all constantly telling stories, to ourselves and to other people, as a way of making sense of our lives...

    Sarah Waters is great and the book sounds superb - you will all be reading it soon - hopefully signed copies you purchased @ Crockatt & Powell...

    www.crockattpowell.com

  • Flashing Helmet

    so much depends
    upon

    a red flash -
    ing

    helmet in
    the night

    outside our fine
    bookshop

    www.crockattpowell.com

  • Bill - Eat My Sweaty Shorts

    Bill Gates - you geekoid...

    You can't sell us our individuality mate - it's OURS.

    I don't want to live my life permanently connected to the internet.

    I do think that travelling to another country is a richer experience than "visiting" it on the internet!

    Virtual Reality? VIRTUAL!!!!!

    Bill Gates you can eat my sweaty shorts...

    If it wasn't for you and your sodding company I would be typing this on a Mac. (The bookshop software only works with windows)

    Bill you are a billionaire - I WILL NEVER TRUST YOU.

    There's one word for you man, and it ain't canute!

  • canute speaks

    Anyone else see this in yesterday's Observer? To summarise, if you can't be bothered to read it: the book is dead. Long live the handheld electronic book-downloading super-gizmo.

    Obviously, this is just the kind of story people who have just invested huge amounts of time and money into new bookshops love to read. (Adam and Matthew look away now. I can carry on because I just work there.) The general idea is that within seven to ten years, we'll all have lovely paper-like mini-computers with something called E-Ink which will make the display look just like the printed page, and we will be able to download thousands and thousands of books onto the same device, cross-reference them, do all kinds of sexy things with them no doubt (possibly literally - anyone else heard about that vibrator you plug into your i-pod which pulsates in time with the music? No? OK, moving on.) And then get really, really, really pissed off with ourselves when we leave them on the train.

    Now, I am an enthusiastic music downloader and can see the superficial attraction of this device, and I am sure that people predicted the downfall of human civilisation when they invented the telephone (maybe they had a point, who knows) but I do have some objections - some? Many. OK innumerable, but let's get going on just a few.

    Can you pass books on? Can you share them? Or does everyone have to download their own? What about libraries? Will they just download books onto your device that erase themselves after three weeks?

    How much will it cost? The device? The downloads? How often will we have to upgrade to new versions as the old ones become obselete and can't keep up with changes in software, which also means if you want to read old books again you have to download a new version to read on your new widget? Exactly how much money are they going to spin out of us?

    How long will the battery power last? If you want to read for more than a couple of hours at a time, will the book just switch itself off?

    What about third world countries where electricity is poorly distributed and sporadic?

    What will we keep on our bookshelves? May sound like a stupid question, but I feel a room looks naked without a few shelves of books. And no, DVDs do not count.

    Will they have adverts? Please god no.

    How will you know what you want to read? This is my principal objection. It is very easy to browse for music online. You can listen to snippets of songs, you can download free samples, and anyway chances are the music you are shopping for is stuff you've already heard, in the radio, in a club, at a mate's. Books are different. OK, there's a percentage of them that sell just through hype, or author reputation, or reviews, or massive great advertising campaigns on the tube (note to the wise: those books are usually not very good), or because you wake up one morning and realise you can't justify living another day without at least having attempted to read some Henry James. But a lot of the time you don't really know what you want to read next, so you go into bookshops, you chat to booksellers (or rant at them incoherantly for what seems like hours, though obviously not in this shop, that's other places I've worked), you look at covers, you pick things up, you check out blurb, you scan the shelves to jog your memory about books you've heard of and you look inside them and have a little read. Everyone does this differently. They look at the beginning. The end (this does mark you out as some kind of freak.) A bit in the middle. Someone I know always turns to page 70. Any number of books are sold this way, as booksellers and publishers know, otherwise why would there be so much controversy about which books make it onto display tables (some shops take payment for this - we do not.) If you are a new, unknown author without a massive publisher behind you, this is the only way you're going to sell anything at all.

    OK, so these are familiar arguments which have already been rehearsed as regards internet retailing. But at least at the moment you have a choice - you can buy the books you know you already want online (possibly even from us, hint hint) and go into shops when you're feeling more indecisive or in need of bookish conversation. But a 100pc download world seems so bleak and solitary, never venturing away from your own personal screen, never being surprised by anything new.

    But maybe I shouldn't be so doom and gloom. Perhaps there are ways around it. Maybe what we'll see is the rise of the display bookshop - one hard copy of each book for browsing purposes only, and then when you've made your choice, you plug yourself in at the counter and download a virtual copy. It would certainly save us a lot of time unpacking and shelving. In fact now I think of it, this could be the best thing that ever happened to bookselling, and particularly to my back, which doesn't like carrying all those heavy boxes. Hurrah for the fake electronic book-like thingy! Down with paper!

    I think I need a bit of a lie down.

    You can also follow this debate on Rullsenberg Rules.

  • Go Susan!

    Interesting piece in the Guardian review section today about independent shops. We found evidence for much of what Susan Hill says as we conducted our own research before opening.

    Read Susan Hill's article here.

    The most horrific thing I encountered was a shop with a dog penned in the corner. The whole place stank of dog (our place still smells of glue from the carpet) There are too many independent shops out there that feel like they are dying! Why would you want to shop in a morgue?

    We are trying to use the internet to our advantage and concentrate on being excellent in all the areas where the chains and internet cannot compete - customer service, this blog, events, creating a physical space that is pleasant to be in and stocking books because they are of interest not because publishers demand it or fashion dictates it...

    119-120 Lower Marsh, that's where we're at...

    The future of independent bookselling has arrived!

    www.susan-hill.com

  • Lost in translation?

    It's possible that some of the difficulties Marie is experiencing with Orhan Pamuk stem from problems of translation.

    At the minute I am reading The Successor by Ismail Kadare. This book was translated from Albanian into French by Tedi Papavrami and then into English by David Bellos. It's a wonder I can make any sense of it at all really! But it does work as a novel in English, partly because it gives an insight into the insanity of Albania under a communist regime, partly because Kadare is a great teller of tales. These are two things that good novels can do, irrespective of literary style etc - be entertaining as stories and to give insight (the illusion of insight?) into other times and places.

    Translations of poetry are another matter. How is it possible to translate poetry from one language to another when surely poetry is dependent on metre, the sounds of the words etc? (Anyone enlighten me?)

    Translation is a profession where it is even harder to make money than by selling books. I had the privilege to attend a meeting for the magazine New Books in German, a publication that attempts to raise the profile of books written in German. I discovered that while the best-selling German books are often translated (Perfume by Patrick Suskind for example) there are a great many, particularly the more literary (ie low selling but highly interesting) books that are rarely translated into English. This seems to me an enormous problem.

    The poet Michael Hoffman is steadily translating the entire works of the great German writer Joseph Roth. This is a real labour of love and is presenting gems such as the Radetzky March or The String of Pearls to a new genereation of readers. But what if Hoffman had not taken on the project? How many brilliant German writers are we missing out on? What about all the other languages in the world?

    www.new-books-in-german.com

  • embarrassed admission

    I'm really enjoying Snow now...

  • What Ian McEwan novel are you?

    We've talked about good writing and its limitations. So what constitutes a good book? Is it good writing plus enjoyment? I'm not sure.

    This morning I was listening to the Today programme, and they had a feature on the proposal to ban the wearing of hijab in the Netherlands. I listened not only with interest but with a sense of understanding the surrounding issues, because they constitute the background to Snow. Somehow Snow, even though I'm not actively enjoying it, has lodged itself in my mind, and indeed as I go through it I'm finding much to admire, even if not to like. Ultimately, were I called upon, as a bookseller, to give a recommendation of Snow, I definitely would - to the right person.

    As booksellers, customers ask us to give recommendations of books all the time. In my opinion, were we only to give recommendations of books that we "like", that would make us pretty lousy booksellers. You need another quality: an understanding that there are some books that you personally may not have enjoyed, but that other people, with other reading habits and other interests, would. You have to know when it is that the book you are reading is "good" even if you don't like it. You also have to know when the person standing in front of you is going to hate all of the books that you like. That doesn't mean they don't deserve a decent recommendation that suits them. Bookselling is not a one-size-fits-all business.

    In my bookselling career, and indeed in my life before bookselling (that's for another post), I don't think that there is a single book I've never heard a bad word about. Obviously, there are some that you rarely hear anything negative about, but there is always somebody who is going to say, Oh god, not Middlemarch. The best illustration of this is the work of Mr Ian McEwan. I have never met anyone who likes all of Ian McEwan's books. And I have never met anyone who dislikes all of Ian McEwan's books. But - crucially - everyone seems to fundamentally disagree on which of McEwan's are the "good" ones. I love Atonement, Enduring Love, and The Cement Garden. I hate Amsterdam - you know, the one that won the Booker. Obviously someone liked it. I've got a friend who quite likes Amsterdam, but adores The Child in Time, a book that I only found OK. I've had customers who rave about Amsterdam. One of the worst reviews I ever read in my life was of Atonement. And so on. Clearly we are all right. Or wrong. Or something. But I think it's fair to say that Ian McEwan writes good books, and that Saturday is definitely going to be worth a punt.

    So next time you come in for a recommendation, why not start by telling us which Ian McEwan novel you like best? And, of course, which one you can't stand. It'll help us find the right book for you. Because when it comes to recommendations, the customer is always, *always*, right.

  • Visit

    www.crockattpowell.com

    the website is developing...

  • bookseller admits to hating book

    Returning to the subject of good writing, what I want to know is can it be good writing if, well, you're not enjoying it very much?

    I'm currently reading Pamuk's Snow for our bookgroup (Feb 6th 7pm! Please come!) Now I don't want to put anyone off turning up or (god forbid) buying the damn thing, but I really am finding it an impenetrably dull read. (Is this business suicide? Can I admit to not enjoying books on our own blog?) I mean, I do get the impression that's it's terribly *important* and it's telling me all kinds of things I *need to know* about the conflict between secularism and religious extremism in contemporary Turkey, and I do even suspect that it is well written - measured prose, imaginative use of imagery, careful characterisation etc. To reitterate: my criticism is not that it's badly written, in as much as the deployment of words to create an effect is entirely successful. It's just that the effect in question is so arse-numbingly tedious. I've got Rohinton Mistry's 'A Fine Balance' on my shelf as next to go, and it looks so utterly brilliant, and I can hear it calling to me: "Read meeeee. Read meeeee." But I have to finish Snow first. It's like taking your Cod Liver Oil before eating a fry-up. Good for you but: Urrrrghhh.

    So my question is this. Is good writing the only way to judge a good book? Is it in fact even the most important way? I enjoyed Bridget Jones's Diary a hell of a lot more than The Human Stain but I'm not going to try to tell you that Helen Fielding is a better writer than Philip Roth. Whatever happened to just enjoying reading? Is it ever OK to switch our critical faculties off? And can someone please write in and reassure me that Snow picks up a bit after the opening chapters?

    More on Pamuk here.

  • reply to paul from poet bit

    I don't know if I managed to post this reply as my computer seems to be having a nervous breakdown or something (idea for next post: anthropomorphism). Anyway...

    Personally, I'm in favour of keeping the 'boundaries' between fiction/poetry/prose/non-fiction in a state of permanent flux. I don't believe in 'facts' and certainties. I like the space in between. That, for me, is the area of imbalance that is intriguing. I think Derrida wrote some interesting stuff in this area.

    www.hydra.umn.edu/derrida/diff.html

    But, from a bookselling and cataloguing point of view, the difference takes on a new perspective. As I said, when I didn't own a bookshop I could care less but now... From years of experience I know some customers get rather upset when their favourite book is in the wrong place.

    Anyway, my reading in linguistics is pretty poor so I should really look back. I think I've an old copy of Saussure somewhere. The sign, the signifier. What was the difference again?

  • Night thoughts...

    The evening starts well with the purchase of a copy of Crime and Punishment. Dostoevsky is one of my favourite writers. I love his characters, their chaotic and passionate natures, the mistakes they make and the intensity with which they think and feel.

    Old Fyodor knew what it was to be alive, that's for sure. He was epileptic and I have read that in the moments before a fit he was transported into a state of mind where everything slowed and became clear. He rose above himself and the world. He could see more clearly than ever before but then, like a flash of lightning, out cold. Sometimes for days at a time. On awakening he was able to use those, excuse the cliche, moments of clarity to write.

    I also read an account of the moment Fyodor first saw Hans Holbein's painting titled The Body of the Dead Christ. This was in a superb novel by Leonid Tsypkin called Summer in Baden Baden. The painting shows Christ dead, lying horizontal. He looks dead to Fyodor, just like any other dead man. That is, of course, the point and our Dost is left stunned, standing for hours in front of the picture. For what if Christ was just a man like you or I? Could God die? What were the ramifications of this? Without God to provide a moral framework for mankind what hope was there?

    I read that account in a novel and yet I found it absolutely convincing. It gave me an insight into the scene in a way a factual account could not have. Am I a fool? Or can fiction (I'm thinking about Adam's post below) allow us to experience things beyond the tyrannical realm of the FACT? Surely that's what the imagination is for? I bet there were plenty of facts to support the theory of a flat earth at one time. Then some clever dick thought about things from another angle, made a few crucial observations and everything changed...

  • I'm not a poet and I know it but I'm willing to learn

    Because we had limited space we thought we were being clever by integrating the 'fiction', 'drama', 'Literary criticism' and... 'poetry' sections into one awesome 'LITERARY' section. So, Vikram Seth sits next to Shakespeare, sits next to Mary Shelley, sits next to Percy... you get the idea. However, our very first customer was semi-incensed at this impudence. 'Poetry is the Truth!!'

    We have since had several customers in asking specifically about poetry and a poet who ran a poetry programme at HMP Brixton told us that she classified poetry as Non-Fiction. It does raise interesting arguments as to what constitutes Fiction/Non-Fiction.

    From the OED: Fiction 1 Prose literature, esp. novels describing imaginary events and peoples. 2 a thing that is invented or untrue > a false belief or statement, accepted as true because it is expedient to do so.
    Non-Fiction Prose writing that is informative or factual rather than fictional
    Fact a thing that is indisputably the case > the truth about events as opposed to interpretation.
    Poem Literary composition that is given intensity by particular attention to diction
    Poetry > a quality of beauty and intensity of emotion regarded as characteristic of poetry
    Truth > a fact or belief that is accepted as true.

    Well, even within those unsatisfactory definitions there seem to be misleading cross-overs. Most of the facts I know for certain pertain to my death. If I step out in front of the number 12 I'll die. If I drink a bottle of bleach I'll die. If I fell from the top of a 10 storey building I'll die. Pretty much everything else 'factual' I know is open to interpretation, untrue or expedient to believe.

    With one area of exception. Another fact I know is I love my parents. I love desire. I love windswept, barren, flat countryside. I love the smell of freshly cut grass. I hate rudeness, anger, reprisals, hatred. These are facts full of beauty and intensity of emotion. Is this poetry? Somewhere between a fact and an expedient belief?

    I should however admit to a giant critical blindspot when it comes to reading poetry. My knowledge amounts to the same as those people who don't know much about art but know what they like. And I can't stand that argument.

    So, C&P has decided to concentrate a section of the shop on poetry, for both readers and poets. We're going to be starting readings and events hopefully and somewhere in the middle of all that I'll discover an intensity of emotion I've been lacking/avoiding until now.

    We'll keep you posted but in the meantime anyone interested can get down to readings of this years T S Eliot prize on sunday 15th at he UCL Bloomsbury Theatre. Full details at www.poetrybooks.co.uk

    Also, anyone out there in blogland with a better grasp of semantics and post-structuralism please get in touch.

  • Crockatt & Powell

    New Independent Bookshop Opens In Zone One?

    Wottakers? The continued destruction of any sort of personality on Britain's high streets is causing concern in many circles. But there is a grain of sand in Lambeth the Satanic Chains have yet to find...

    Crockatt & Powell is a new independent bookshop in central London. No I'm not joking - we are in zone 1. You can hear Big Ben in the street and see the London Eye through our back window.

    My name is Matthew Crockatt and I have worked in bookshops since leaving university. After failing to write a novel I finally surrendered to real life (kind of) by starting a bookshop with a friend, Adam Powell. Adam is a trained architect and designed the shop but I'll leave him to introduce himself.

    We think we have created a beautiful space and a great environment in which to browse a carefully chosen selection of books. We can also order anything we don't stock and do book searches for those that have slipped out of print.

    This blog is the first part of our adventures into cyber space. When we have made a little money we will construct a website with a forum where people can discuss books online. We are starting a book group that meets on the first Monday of the month. The first meeting is on Feb 6th and we are going to discuss Orhan Pamuk's Snow. We also aim to host a variety of events from author readings to screenings of short films.

    We are completely independent and consider the only limits to what the shop can become lie in our own imaginations. I should qualify that. Our imaginations and those of our customers, for what is a bookshop without people?

    Come and check us out. Lower Marsh is the best street in London. You didn't know that did you? There is a scooter shop that sells coffee; a market; an S & M shop that sells rubber suits for your dog (!); several good pubs and bars; a flute shop; a brilliant Japanese Cafe..

    www.crockattpowell.com

    Important PS:

    The best thing about Crockatt & Powell is, of course, Marie. Although she has as yet made just one sale and barely set foot in the shop, Marie is working tirelessly behind the scenes organising events etc. This blog was her idea. The only reason she is not mentioned in the above post proper is that I copy/pasted it directly from an earlier spot on the blog. At that point she was still employed by a rival bookseller - but Marie is a secret no more...

  • Beckoning Star/Return of Scheherazade

    Unfortunately, due to considerations of time and space, we could not stock either of Eric Jerpe's wonderful sounding books but, in case anyone out in the blogosphere is interested here's the link:

    www.beckoningstar.com

  • Bloggers - Meat - Green Tea

    I used to drink a lot of coffee. That's a lot of coffee. I would wake in the morning and stagger towards the kitchen. (In fact there was another stop first but I think we've had enough about that sort of thing for a few days) If anyone met me at this time I was unable to communicate, perhaps a grunt or shrug, nothing more.

    I would set to work: find beans, grind beans, get filters, put filter in plastic thing, put plastic thing with filter in top of cup, pour in coffee, pour on water, where's the freaking milk!, milk, find comfy chair...Ahhhhhhhhhhh...........That's better...

    If you know the Velvet Underground song Heroin - change the title to coffee and that was me. (Er - sorry Lynne I?)

    Nowadays I am into tea - green tea. I was initially attracted to green tea because someone told me it would stop me (I?) getting cancer. Then I realised it contained caffeine. Yes, for some reason I always assumed green tea was caffeine free. (Look at the drips that drank it. Could they handle a caffeine buzz?)

    Know what? Green tea is the secret you've been looking for. All the caffeine power of a strong coffee but without the tragic breath, devestated guts etc.

    Now I sit and drink cup after cup, even though a scientific mate broke the news that green tea only stops women getting cancer. (WHY! That's almost as bad as bird flu being particularly deadly for healthy young adults. I hate scientists. When are they going to discover that a nice pint of London Pride is the secret to eternal life?)

    Erm, where was I? Oh yes...Bloggers are real people! They exist in real life!

    I suppose to most of you this is no surprise. But I'm new to this game. I hear that the real world is referred to as the meat world by geeky virtual types. See, I'm learning. One day someone might show me how to upload a pic so you can see how deadly handsome I am...

    Until that day you will just have to come and find Crockatt & Powell in all our meaty glory like the bloggers we met who came in over the weekend. They bought things too. Really cool people see...One of them was even about to go off to Antarctica.

    Be brave. Enter the meat and meet us on the Marsh.

    See you soon!

  • Everything & Nothing

    I see two different responses to America from American writers today:

    There are those such as Jonathan Franzen say or Rick Moody who seek to cram the whole of American life into their novels - to express an IDEA of America. This is not new. In fact it's pretty much an American tradition. There's Don Delillo with his massive Underworld or you could go further back to Whitman and his epic, self-centred poetry. The belief that this huge and complex place called America needs to be written about in SUV sized books. Moby Dick. You see where I'm coming from?

    Then there are writers who take the opposite approach. America might be a huge and complex subject but it is SO huge and complex as to make expressing it in a book an almost impossible task. The response of these writers is to see America as a big ZERO - a place of emptiness where capital has destroyed meaning. Here I am thinking about writers such as Bret Easton Ellis, the young Nick McDonell or the excellent but largely unknown John Haskell whose American Purgatorio charts new depths of numbness.

    These writers, it seems to me, are overwhelmed by the choices and opportunities living in America has given them. They have it all and...whatever...Except it's not quite that indifferent because these guys still feel compelled to write something and often these slimmer, less indulgent efforts seem to me to be more powerful than the BIG books that, by their very size, seek to appear important.

    Less is more? Should I start reading poetry again? Christopher Logue just won the Whitbread poetry prize for the final installment of War Music - a poem that has taken over forty years to write and probably uses less words than I have in this rambling post!

  • C&P in website shock

    It's not much but our 'real' website is now up. Just the one page at the moment - we're still learning Dreamweaver - but hopefully more to come in the weeks and months and years...

    www.crockattpowell.com

  • C&P Customer in career suicide shock

    Well, he's not quite a customer yet but as soon as we've completed our blanket mail drop next week I'm sure he soon will be. In fact I wonder if I can manage to deliver a flyer at just the moment he's spilling all for the cameras?

    To be fair though I didn't realise Charlie was a local until last night. I've been cycling home along Kennington Lane the last few nights and noticing a huge satellite dish attached to the top of a white van. I just thought the tv license guys were in town until I noticed Lembit Opik MP, partner of dishy welsh weathergirl (trying saying that after a few Glenmorangies) Sian whatserface, shaking hands with the camera guy outside xx Kennington Lane. The penny dropped. Champagne fuckin' Charlie. On our doorstep. Do you think Lembit was the one to finally persuade him...

    Anyway, I feel sorry for Mr Kennedy but really he was the most dead duck in the water since they introduced fishing by dynamite. The commons (another local customer potentiality) can exhibit all the grace of the football terrace at times and I fear our Charles was in for the mother of all abuse come debate time. Now I know that MP's are not immune to the odd tipple. Indeed I have it on VERY good authority that at the commons bars the waiters actually PAY members to get pissed - FACT. But... never get caught.

    Still. You could imagine the scenario couldn't you...

    It's 2011. President 'Condy' Rice has launched an all out attack of the newly formed joint US-Iranian Marine Corps at blighty for being, generally, Off-Message (and weeing on the kitchen floor - but what's a poodle to do?) The scene: The Cabinet War Rooms...

    "Prime Minister. The attack forces are off Portland Bill."

    "...eehhh..."

    "Sir, we only have one answer to their overwhelming power!"

    "...bleeurghhh..."

    "Mr Kennedy! Give me permission to launch the Nukes!!!!!!!"

    "...Ah shink...that....Ah've jusht.....shat in ma troosers..."

    Still, everybody deserves a second chance and I hope Charles gets his. So, let's raise a glass (of soda water) to our erstwhile ginger chum. He's welcome at C&P Towers any day! (It's only a short walk from the front door, Mr K) But, come to think of it, now he's had a sudden and catastrophic cut in wages, that elegant georgian terrace that probably has him mortgaged up to his watery eyeballs may soon become a distant memory. Like his career.

  • the reader who came in from the cold

    In the ice box that is my temporary home, there are two books available for me to read. One is 'Snow', by Orhan Pamuk. And the other is 'The Summer Book', by Tove Jansson. Quite the philosophical choice. Do you read to reflect the conflicts of your own life? Or to escape?

  • Angels

    A young lady walks into the shop. She has pastel-green eye-shadow. After browsing for a while she approaches our till. (The till has been cunningly designed to resemble a bar - perfect for resting against and chatting - this is what happens when booksellers design bookshops!)

    "Do you have a book called Angels?"

    My heart leaps. The blog works! The day after posting about Denis Johnson I have a punter in who wants to read him!

    "Is it this one by Denis Johnson?"

    I hand her a copy of Angels and she looks at it quizically. She reads the blurb on the back:

    Angels is the story of two born losers. Jamie is escaping with her two girls from a husband who had gone zombie-like on her. Bill is dreaming of making it big in a life of crime so natural to him that any other way would make no sense. They meet on a Greyhound bus, and team up because they have nowhere else to go.

    She frowns.

    "No, I don't think so..."

    Then I remember. Marian Keyes has a book called angels.

    "Was it one by Marian Keyes?"

    Her face brightens.

    "Yes that's it!"

    We don't have it in stock. Nobody is reading this after all...

  • upstairs

    Speaking of the cold... A bug I seem to have picked up has necessitated urgent and repeated visits 'upstairs' for the delivery of unwanted goods. Unfortunately, 'upstairs' falls outside of the shop heating remit and contact with the liquid-nitrogen-like bakelite lid of the goods receptacle precipitates a rapid, reflexive tightening of the delivery zone resulting in the goods being sent back to the holding area. I fear a vicious cycle until making it home to proper central heating and a wooden seat.

  • local shop for local people

    Am currently in Dorset, working on the supply end of the book thing. Went into the nearest town to buy some fingerless gloves to stop myself dying of frostbite while I'm typing (writer's retreat = no central heating) and cast my eye over the little independent bookshop (hurrah!) on the high street. Interesting to see what local needs it covers. All the books on Dorset were a given. The secondhand hardback of photos of Concorde, chosen for the window display, threw me slightly. But having a whole section of a tiny shop devoted entirely to military books? I am locking my door tonight.

  • advertising

    I have just noticed that other web-based book sites are advertising on this blog. (I am usually more observant than this)

    As we have just opened and spent all our money on fine books and lovely shelves we can't afford the 'premium' blog service that would prevent corporate vultures from landing us.

    Feel free to browse their search engines but please e-mail us with your choices on crockattpowell@btconnect.com and we'll send you the same goods at competitive prices (probably).

    Thank you

  • www.refilltoner.com

    The toner ran out on the C&P new £70 laser printer. Went to Rymans to get some new toner - £79.95 - a tenner more than the printer cost!!! Corporate larceny on a grand scale surely.

    Thank god for the internet. A short google search, a trip to www.refilltoner.com and 15 quid later, voila.

    The package arrived today. It had rubber gloves, a mask, a big bottle and a strange soldering iron type device. I had to burn a hole through the plastic and the manufacturers logo. I had to hold the bottle for two minutes. I had to shake vigorously for 30 seconds... and IT WORKS.

    So any of you out there with cheapo laser printers and exorbitant toner costs - you know where to go.

    I have not been paid to promote this website.

  • day 19

    What is good writing? Mmmm. There is no such thing as 'good writing'! There are only ideas. There are only thoughts and images connected to the idea. Writing is there to deliver the idea, deliver the image, the thought. It is a communication structure. If the writing delivers the idea, then it may be called successful writing. Successful writing is not necessarily about style, be it efficient, poetic, moving, political, economical or otherwise can be besides the point.

    I think writing becomes 'good' or 'great' when the idea becomes good or great. An example that comes to mind is an essay by Heidegger I read a couple of years ago, Building Dwelling Thinking (in Poetry, Language, Thought, £6.99, available soon at C & P). The language at first reading was utterly inpenetrable and unreadable. It's only a short piece but each successive time I read it I was none the wiser. An example of bad writing then, I thought it was rubbish. But all of a sudden the images he was trying to convey began to appear in my head. It's about Man's relationship with his environment and the essay is essentially a 'painting', a description of an imagined, idealised place where Man dwells. A short, hard, pompous piece had become truly beautiful, great and moving.

    When I read Chekhov's short stories it is not the language or 'writing' that I remember but the characters who are so vividly drawn they might as well be in the same room.

    On the other side of the coin what can we say about The Da Vinci Code? This surely is excellent writing as craft. It is efficient, it propels the story, it gets the reader to where they want to be. But what is it about? Crazy catholic conspiracy theories? WHO THE FUCK CARES!!!

    There are such things as Great Ideas and great writing is there to make sure we all are aware of them and remember them.

    I could of course be talking out of my arse.

    ps I didn't respond to a comment from Jsygurl about Alan Bennett. I think you have some valid points but when I read his Untold Stories, £20, Signed Copy available it was like having a favourite uncle rambling on in the corner of the room. Sometimes repetitive, sometimes offensive, often very funny. C'mon, indulge the old fella.

  • Subjection/BLARB

    Ok, so good writing, like good looks, seems to be a subjective thing.

    But then you have the forces of, for sake of a better word, BLARB. Once the BLARB gets going (the media, columnists, dinner parties, cheese on sticks etc) these subjective opinions are often shaped so that (for want of a better image) a generation of young girls grows up wanting to be Jordan. As publishers are notoriously sensitive about such things I will not say who I think is the literary equivalent of Jordan! (Any guesses?)

    So...good writing is subjective.

    We all lead such busy lives don't we? Who, apart from fanatical independent booksellers, has the chance to decide who the good writers are? The BLARB are too involved in BLARBING to make considered choices. Reviewers? Forget it! I used to write reviews and the whole thing is a stitch up. (Very similar to Wottakers etc. Did you know that publishers PAY them to put books in the window?)

    The next logical step in this argument is to subject you to some of my opinions on good writing -

    Anybody heard of Denis Johnson? You will love him. A publisher once described him to me as a "writer's writer". What a ridiculous description. It implies you need some sort of expert writerly knowledge to enjoy his writing - do you have to be a fish to enjoy swimming?

    Put simply HE ROCKS. Angels, Jesus's Son, Already Dead, Resuscitation Of A Hanged Man, Seek - all are superb. He writes about the American underbelly in a way I find far more convincing than many of the authors you might read about as new and HOT from the US. More than that he has a heart. These are not mere nihilistic masturbatory exercises these are books with the passion and ambition of Dostoevsky...check them out.

  • The red truck goes rrrrr

    *updated - please note 7pm start time*

    I don't actually start work at Crockatt & Powell until the beginning of February, and one of the first things I will be doing when I get there is starting a reading group (join us! First Monday of every month at 7.00 pm.) I'm looking forward to it - I've been to many reading groups in the past, but I've never been in charge, so it'll be a good opportunity to give my inner despot a bit of a workout. You need to be a bit despotic to run a reading group. When I was little - and please bear with me, this is relevant - I loved the Lois Lowry series of Anastasia Krupnik books, and there was one in which, in order to keep a secret from their mother, Anastasia's little brother Sam was instructed only to talk about trucks. "How are you, Sam?" "The red truck goes rrrrr." "Are you enjoying school?" "The green truck is very big." As it is with reading groups. I adore reading groups, I love discussing books with other readers and gaining insights that I would never otherwise have reached... However. There is always one person with a particular obsession - it doesn't really matter what it is: politics, historical context, prose style, imagery, characterisation - and *no matter what the topic at hand* that is all they will agree to discuss. "So, Ulysses has a very particular prose style, does anyone have anything to say about it? Yes, you?" "James Joyce was misogynist." "His use of language is fascinating, don't you think?" "He hated women." That sort of thing. Does that sounds like you? In which case you are a book group natural. Please come along and incur my wrath. Our first meeting (Feb 6th) will be on the subject of Orhan Pamuk's 'Snow'. "Did anyone find that Snow's narrator was not entirely reliable? Yes, you?" "Pamuk is biased against Islam." And so on. See you there!

  • Everyone's a winner!

    Speaking of prizes, and I believe we were, or at least I was before flashing helmet guy kicked in (like Darth Vader crossed with Bill Oddie - really, can you imagine anything worse?), this fledgling website has just picked up its own modest gong in the shape of a Site of the Week mention from The Guardian's Culture Vulture blog. I couldn't be more delighted and astonished if I had won a Whitbread (may not actually be true - I would be more astonished if I won a Whitbread, because my novel is currently only half-written, but maybe I can take advantage of the publicity and rush-release it before they announce the book of the year on January 24th.) Now I know how the pea felt in the Princess and the Pea. You noticed us! Thank you so much to those lovely folk chez Guardian.

  • Return of Flashing Helmet

    I knew it...

    He walks in, helmet flashing (see lower post) the outback alien returns. It's dark and quiet, nobody about:

    "Alright mate...got anything in on ornithological diseases? That's birds, you know..."

    I point him in the direction of Cocker & Mabey's superb Birds Britannica as the only possible option. It is wrapped in plastic. Up close the flashing one is, as suspected, crusted with dirt. The book is wrapped in cellophane. We look at each other.

    "There might be something in the index...you look it up, me 'ands are dirty...shame you've got to open it but it looks like a good book, sure you'll still sell it."

    There isn't. Oh well. He turns to leave but then stops in the doorway, red lights blinking.

    "I might find something in the library. You've got some good books here. I knew that just lookin' in the window. I may come back. Into science and philosophy these days...can't abide that fiction. Book after book and where does it get you?"

    Being a fiction addict I smile and nod. He raises his hand and leaves.

    "Got to keep an eye on me bike."

    He will be back. He will NEVER BUY ANYTHING...

  • Whitbread winners

    The Whitbread category awards have been annnounced. Always an interesting bunch - I often find they choose better than the Booker, so it is particularly noteworthy that Tash Aw's Booker-longlisted 'Harmony Silk Factory' picked up best first novel and Ali Smith's shortlisted 'The Accidental' was awarded best novel. Better than 'The Sea'? I couldn't possibly comment. The other winners were Hilary Spurling's 'Matisse the Master' getting a well-deserved nod for best biography, 'The New Policeman' by Kate Thompson winning for children's, and 'Cold Calls' by Christopher Logue for poetry. Let's see who walks off with Book of the Year at the end of the month - I'm tentatively sticking my neck out for Spurling, but the last time I predicted a book prize correctly was Vernon God Little's Booker win, and that's going back a while. (A prediction I might have mentioned to DBC Pierre when I met him at a book signing shortly afterwards. Unfortunately, and for reasons far too bizarre to explain, what I actually ended up saying was "There are 13 varieties of banana in Uganda"; he was not impressed and I ran out of the building. True story.)

  • Good Writing

    Read an interesting piece in the Times today: (paste the link into your browser - apols to tech-heads everywhere)

    http://www.timesonline.co.uk/article/0,,2087-1965623,00.html

    What really grabbed me were the comments at the end:

    Middleton, 86, whose books have a devoted following, wasn’t surprised. “People don’t seem to know what a good novel is nowadays,” he said. Naipaul, 73, said the “world had moved on” since he wrote the novel. He added: “To see that something is well written and appetisingly written takes a lot of talent and there is not a great deal of that around.”

    “With all the other forms of entertainment today there are very few people around who would understand what a good paragraph is.”

    So what makes a good novel? What makes good writing? Who decides? Working in a bookshop I am constantly told by and tell customers that such and such a book is "well written". But what does that mean?

    I overheard someone say to their son once that when something was well written you hardly noticed you were reading at all - the pages flew by. I know that feeling and it is a pleasure but I do not necessarily equate it with what I consider to be good writing.

    Good writing IS noticed. When I find myself reading sentences two or three times, rereading whole sections, dazzled, dumbstruck, falling in love with the words and their arrangement on the page - that's good writing.

    When you finish a book and it sticks with you, lodges in some cleft in the brain, wakes you days later in the middle of the night - that's good writing.

    Good writing makes you change your behaviour, alters the way you see and experience the world - good writing can be dangerous!

    But the one thing I have learned over the years is that people find it very hard to agree on what good writing is. I might love a book. Adam thinks it's "rhubarb".

    One thing I am sure good writing is NOT dependent on is grammar, punctuation, spelling etc. Are you saying John Clare couldn't write? William Blake? That stuff is important but only to a degree. Lynne Truss and all you other spelling fascists (Marie!) are barking up a very boring tree.

    Good writing eh? The debate starts here...

    PS My heart (along with a million others) leapt at the thought that a Nobel winning writer can also receive the dreaded letters of rejection. I AM a genius. I KNEW it!

    PPS Happy New Year...

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