In the previous Cultural Compass issue, I mentioned I'd toyed around with different themes to run with, one of which being tied to World Book Day. Well, a few weeks on it still feels entirely relevant given that, in the life of a bibliophile, everyday is book day.
There may be some of you here who don't come for the books, and rather endure my chat about them because there are other things that interest you. If you're wondering then what bibliophile means, it has nothing to do with a certain religious text, but is merely a fancy term for a love of books.
Which is how I came to land on this week’s recommendations, because my interest in books is not just about reading them; flicking through a good story then donating it to the charity shop. It's about the whole experience of browsing books. How and when and from where we buy books. Which books we read at different times (of the day, of the year, of our lives...). It's about appreciating the covers, the feel and smell of the pages, the way a hardback sits nicely on a lap cushion in a way that a paperback oddly does not.
The first two recommendations explore some of these elements in more detail, while the third touches on the latest cultural zeitgeist: One Day.
🎧 Powerful Reads
First up, another podcast episode from
’s (also featured in the last issue), this time interviewing trained Bibliotherapist, Bijal Shah. Though new to me as a concept, it didn’t take long to get on board with the idea of Bibliotherapy as “an art therapy that leverages the power of stories to heal.”Shah talks about her practice of guiding people towards discovering new books that fit with what they feel they need to connect with in their lives at any given time, be it building empathy for strangers, embracing their own sexuality, or overcoming a sense of shame related to experiencing difficulty with reading. Along with curated recommendations, the therapy uses books - fiction, non-fiction, poetry - as prompts for those engaging with it to journal, and make connections around their own feelings based on what the themes or characters might spark for them. Shah suggests different ways of doing this, including writing a letter to the protagonist, recording voice notes with reflections, as well as the more traditional channel of pouring thoughts out of your head and into your favourite notebook.
While getting into the nuances of this concept, and exploring how the restorative power of reading is outlined in Shah’s new book, the conversation encourages listeners to trust our curiosity with books, rather than be constantly drawn to keeping up with the publishing cycle, where a new month’s “must read” list can be longer than some of us might get through in a year.
Interesting, heart-warming and an easy listen, a podcast ep for book worms and mental health advocates alike.
🎧 The World of Bookselling
I recently stumbled upon this episode of the Always Take Notes podcast, featuring James Daunt. I found it fascinating to learn of his entry into the book world with the establishment of Daunt Books in 1990, and how that led to the role of Waterstones Managing Director in the UK, and then Chief Executive of Barnes and Noble in the USA too.
The Marylebone branch of Daunt Books is one of my favourite bookshops to mooch around in, and I’ve discovered some incredible reads there. With books shelved according to country, it’s the perfect place to pick up a holiday read associated with your destination, or to seek out stories and authors from a particular place. Coming across The Blue Between Sky and Water seven or eight years ago for example, and then exploring more of her work, Palestinian author and activist Susan Abulhawa’s characters have stayed with me through the passing of time.
When Daunt spoke of this curious set up during the interview, he made it seems like the most normal thing in the world, given that he himself tends to read books by country categorisation. How cool to create a shop based on your own personal reading style, that hundreds of thousands, if not millions, would come to know and love.
Daunt also spoke relatively candidly about the financial difficulties that have taunted bookshops and booksellers for decades, how this impacts investment in staff, and the fears of ebooks having not quite materialised in the way the industry once suspected.
Of course, we might fairly question whether it makes sense for one man to have so much power and influence across one industry, running both the world’s largest retail bookseller and the largest retail bookseller in the UK. I probably don’t know enough to comment on the impact this might have on the industry, and other independent booksellers. But from this chat I did get a sense that Daunt feels very passionate about books, and about the experience and indeed art of bookselling, both of which seem pretty key to doing a good job.
📖 Heartache on the Page
And now, for One Day.
To clarify - the book, not the series that the whole world seems to be currently fangirling over.
Not that I’m opposed to TV adaptations of great books; I had front row sofa seats to Normal People during that first COVID lockdown period, just like everyone else. But having had One Day on my TBR list for actual YEARS, and knowingly avoiding it owing to the lingering memory of Anne Hathaway in the 2011 film version - that I watched once and never again - happily living life, care-free one moment, and the next … Well, if you know, you know. I’ve since questioned over and over how and why this book has come to be a sort of cult classic. How so many people can fawn over it when it offers up such tragedy.
But with my bookish taste buds tempted with all the talk of the series, I decided that if I was going to ever succumb to watching what all my friends (and family!) are talking about, I’d have to read the book first. And so it was that last month, it came off the shelf, and into my hands.
I won’t go into the depths of the story here, because you likely already know the plot, and if you don’t I wouldn’t do it justice, so do delve in of your own accord.
But what struck me was not the sense of sadness, anger and regret for the characters that the last few chapters in particular had me feeling, but rather how *that scene* and it’s aftermath made me reflect on, well, life. How important it is to tell people how we really feel. Not to put off what we really want to do. To live life to the fullest (though perhaps not in the Dexter Mayhew of early 90’s way).
I was filled with an odd sense of love - for what I’m not entirely sure, but I think a concoction of gratitude for my relationships with loved ones, my literal beating heart, and also somewhat of an urgency to not waste my life. Exactly the kind of sensation you want in bed at 11:15 on a Tuesday night, of course. Not really knowing what to do with the feelings the book was stirring in me, I journaled about them, in the night, and in the morning. Trying to make sense of what my brain and/or this book were trying to tell me.
It wasn’t until I was re-listening to the aforementioned Bibliotherapy podcast on a walk to a Reformer Pilates class yesterday morning (and yes I picked up an oat milk flat white afterwards, and also yes, I am unapologetically millennial) that it clicked I had sort of inadvertently done a bit of this technique myself. An unexpected neat link for this newsletter.
I’m now having some recovery time before considering diving into the TV show, and before I listen to
and Bobby Palmer’s episode of Book Chat on One Day (though I know Sykes has often referenced this title as one of her top re-reads). I’m also wondering whether to explore more David Nicholls (will all his writing make me feel like this?) or whether I’ve perhaps had my fill of sentimental novels for a while.If you’ve recently, or historically, consumed One Day, in whatever format, I’d love to hear what feelings or emotions it stirred up for you, perhaps influencing your navigation of life!
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I have yet to read the book (though I've now picked up a copy and it's on my TBR pile) and I'd never seen the movie, but I was very moved in the same way by the new Netflix series, and wrote about it here: https://mollymccarron.substack.com/p/in-late-twentieth-century-britain
I read One Day as a trainee English teacher in London with a desperate urge to write fiction and to say *that scene* felt like a suckerpunch was an understatement. I looked like a raisin from all the crying.