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Howards End Is on the Landing: A Year of Reading from Home
This is a year of reading from home, by one of Britain's most distinguished authors.
Early one autumn afternoon in pursuit of an elusive book on her shelves, Susan Hill encountered dozens of others that she had never read, or forgotten she owned, or wanted to read for a second time.
The discovery inspired her to embark on a year-long voyage through her books, forsaking new purchases in order to get to know her own collection again.
A book which is left on a shelf for a decade is a dead thing, but it is also a chrysalis, packed with the potential to burst into new life. Wandering through her house that day, Hill's eyes were opened to how much of that life was stored in her home, neglected for years.
'Howards End is on the Landing' charts the journey of one of the nation's most accomplished authors as she revisits the conversations, libraries and bookshelves of the past that have informed a lifetime of reading and writing.
Early one autumn afternoon in pursuit of an elusive book on her shelves, Susan Hill encountered dozens of others that she had never read, or forgotten she owned, or wanted to read for a second time.
The discovery inspired her to embark on a year-long voyage through her books, forsaking new purchases in order to get to know her own collection again.
A book which is left on a shelf for a decade is a dead thing, but it is also a chrysalis, packed with the potential to burst into new life. Wandering through her house that day, Hill's eyes were opened to how much of that life was stored in her home, neglected for years.
'Howards End is on the Landing' charts the journey of one of the nation's most accomplished authors as she revisits the conversations, libraries and bookshelves of the past that have informed a lifetime of reading and writing.
236 pages, Hardcover
First published October 8, 2009
87 people are currently reading
5,991 people want to read
About the author
Susan Hill
170books2,201followersSusan Hill was born in Scarborough, North Yorkshire in 1942. Her hometown was later referred to in her novel A Change for the Better (1969) and some short stories especially "Cockles and Mussels".
She attended Scarborough Convent School, where she became interested in theatre and literature. Her family left Scarborough in 1958 and moved to Coventry where her father worked in car and aircraft factories. Hill states that she attended a girls� grammar school, Barr's Hill. Her fellow pupils included Jennifer Page, the first Chief Executive of the Millennium Dome. At Barrs Hill she took A levels in English, French, History and Latin, proceeding to an English degree at King's College London. By this time she had already written her first novel, The Enclosure which was published by Hutchinson in her first year at university. The novel was criticised by The Daily Mail for its sexual content, with the suggestion that writing in this style was unsuitable for a "schoolgirl".
Her next novel Gentleman and Ladies was published in 1968. This was followed in quick succession by A Change for the Better, I'm the King of the Castle, The Albatross and other stories, Strange Meeting, The Bird of Night, A Bit of Singing and Dancing and In the Springtime of Year, all written and published between 1968 and 1974.
In 1975 she married Shakespeare scholar Stanley Wells and they moved to Stratford upon Avon. Their first daughter, Jessica, was born in 1977 and their second daughter, Clemency, was born in 1985. Hill has recently founded her own publishing company, Long Barn Books, which has published one work of fiction per year.
Librarian's Note: There is more than one author by this name.
She attended Scarborough Convent School, where she became interested in theatre and literature. Her family left Scarborough in 1958 and moved to Coventry where her father worked in car and aircraft factories. Hill states that she attended a girls� grammar school, Barr's Hill. Her fellow pupils included Jennifer Page, the first Chief Executive of the Millennium Dome. At Barrs Hill she took A levels in English, French, History and Latin, proceeding to an English degree at King's College London. By this time she had already written her first novel, The Enclosure which was published by Hutchinson in her first year at university. The novel was criticised by The Daily Mail for its sexual content, with the suggestion that writing in this style was unsuitable for a "schoolgirl".
Her next novel Gentleman and Ladies was published in 1968. This was followed in quick succession by A Change for the Better, I'm the King of the Castle, The Albatross and other stories, Strange Meeting, The Bird of Night, A Bit of Singing and Dancing and In the Springtime of Year, all written and published between 1968 and 1974.
In 1975 she married Shakespeare scholar Stanley Wells and they moved to Stratford upon Avon. Their first daughter, Jessica, was born in 1977 and their second daughter, Clemency, was born in 1985. Hill has recently founded her own publishing company, Long Barn Books, which has published one work of fiction per year.
Librarian's Note: There is more than one author by this name.
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August 4, 2016
Old houses tend to collect books, especially if the inhabitants are educated and cultured. My ancestral home in India is no exception: it is more than a hundred years old and is literally a refugee camp for books. You can see anything from the latest glossy paperback to a mildewed pamphlet from pre-Independence days; you can find bound volumes of Walt Disney comics sitting cheek-by-jowl with hardbacks of the Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna. And they pop up in the most unlikely places, including the bathroom cupboard.
I still remember when I first discovered Wodehouse. I was in my second year of engineering. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and there was nothing to read � for me, an intolerable situation. So I prowled around, searching for anything at all, and came upon a moth-eaten hardbound book, its dust jacket long gone: the cover showed a man in butler’s attire chasing a portly boy. The title was The Inimitable Jeeves. I opened the book, scanned the first page, and sat down to read � and got up when the sun was setting. Plum had obtained another diehard fan.
I was reminded of this incident when I read the following sentence from the book under review:
Yes indeed.
--------------------------------------
Susan hill went on a search to locate a particular book - Howard’s End by E. M. Forester, which was ultimately discovered on the landing � but that search took her across her own library, and through countless read and unread books. So she took a decision to stop buying new books, stay away from the internet, and revisit her old favourites.
The result is this wonderful tome, a memoir and a book of literary criticism rolled into one. It is a delightful enterprise to accompany this accomplished novelist on her wanderings around the house, meeting your own favourites and new authors along the way.
There was my childhood favourite, Enid Blyton;
The inimitable Charles Dickens;
Susan Hill has the same problem with Joyce that I have, and the same opinion!
And this observation about one of my favourite authors was so spot on that I almost whooped in delight.
--------------------------------------
Ms. Hill makes a lot of insightful observations about how literature works. The fact that these are expressed in simple words does not take anything away from the profundity of the insight.
Susan Hill is by no means a literary snob. She is a reader, first and foremost, who takes pleasure in the written word. Which is why she can say
and
Reading, all said and done, is an escape: from a reality that would drive us mad if we look at it squarely in the face. It is a drug, but one with no after-effects. It is an addiction that one does not want to cure.
--------------------------------------
Was it a shock or a liberation for Jeeves as he was woken up from a decades-long sleep on a sleepy summer afternoon by a bored Indian teenager? Whatever it must have been, I am sure he would have raised the corner of his lip one-sixteenth of an inch and said: “I am glad to have given satisfaction, sir.�
This is a wonderful read.
I still remember when I first discovered Wodehouse. I was in my second year of engineering. It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and there was nothing to read � for me, an intolerable situation. So I prowled around, searching for anything at all, and came upon a moth-eaten hardbound book, its dust jacket long gone: the cover showed a man in butler’s attire chasing a portly boy. The title was The Inimitable Jeeves. I opened the book, scanned the first page, and sat down to read � and got up when the sun was setting. Plum had obtained another diehard fan.
I was reminded of this incident when I read the following sentence from the book under review:
A book which is left on a shelf is a dead thing but it is also a chrysalis, an inanimate object packed with the potential to burst into new life.
Yes indeed.
--------------------------------------
Susan hill went on a search to locate a particular book - Howard’s End by E. M. Forester, which was ultimately discovered on the landing � but that search took her across her own library, and through countless read and unread books. So she took a decision to stop buying new books, stay away from the internet, and revisit her old favourites.
Too much internet usage fragments the brain and dissipates concentration so that after a while, one’s ability to spend long, focused hours immersed in a single subject becomes blunted. information comes pre-digested in small pieces, one grazes on endless ready-meals and snacks of the mind, and the result is mental malnutrition.
The result is this wonderful tome, a memoir and a book of literary criticism rolled into one. It is a delightful enterprise to accompany this accomplished novelist on her wanderings around the house, meeting your own favourites and new authors along the way.
There was my childhood favourite, Enid Blyton;
Enid Blyton’s books did for my generation, and several generations since, what J.K. Rowling’s have done recently� broke that invisible barrier between children who are natural-born readers and children who are not.
�
I lived with those boys and girls, who were around my own age but lived far more interesting lives, with nicer houses, more fun parents, greater freedom to gallop about the countryside on horses, take out boats and bikes, and go hiking and mountain climbing. There were villains, there was danger, they got into scrapes, yet their world was essentially serene and safe and for the duration of the story I, like many thousands of other readers between the ages of seven and twelve or so, was wholly absorbed in it. These were my friends and companions, I was one of the Five and the Seven, I went to the Mountain of Adventure and Spooky Cottage, I was in the Fifth at Malory Towers.
The inimitable Charles Dickens;
A perfect, flawless Dickens would somehow be a shrunken, impoverished one. Yes, he is sentimental, yes, he has purple passages, yes, his plots sometimes have dropped stitches, yes, some of his characters are quite tiresome. But his literary imagination was the greatest ever, his world of teeming life is as real as has ever been invented, his conscience, his passion for the underdog, the poor, the cheated, the humiliated are godlike. He created an array of varied, vibrant, living, breathing men and women and children that is breathtaking in its scope.
Susan Hill has the same problem with Joyce that I have, and the same opinion!
Nor can I read Ulysses, though Stephen Fry, cleverer and better read than anyone I know, swears by it. He told me that it was just a question of diving in and swimming fast. Not for me it wasn’t, I drowned. But I will go to the gallows to uphold the right of Ulysses to be called a classic.
And this observation about one of my favourite authors was so spot on that I almost whooped in delight.
Dahl was one of those geniuses who happen along only very rarely in the world of children’s literature, someone who was totally in tune with the child’s way of thinking, and view of life, and with exactly what children needed from their stories. His language, like his characters, like his plots, is sometimes anarchic, a firework display of inventiveness. He gave permission to children to be true to their real selves, not the selves grown-ups were trying to turn them into, let alone those their parents fondly imagine them to be. That is why children respond to his books and probably always will. His stories are timeless in their appeal because the quality of insight is recognised by each new generation.
--------------------------------------
Ms. Hill makes a lot of insightful observations about how literature works. The fact that these are expressed in simple words does not take anything away from the profundity of the insight.
Novelist’s stories sometimes wear a slight air of pointlessness, as if they were made out of leftovers � either that or the novelist has never quite found the short-story voice.
***
Love is the most difficult thing to write about successfully. It is the litmus test of greatness in a novelist if a love story moves and convinces and never once makes the reader grimace, smirk or feel embarrassed. Modern novelists are bad at writing about love because they feel that it has to mean writing explicitly about sex.
***
Slow reading is deeply satisfying. I read two or three chapters of To the Lighthouse, or Little Dorrit, or The Age of Innocence or Midnight’s Children, and stop, go back, look at how the sentences and paragraphs are put together, how the narrative works, how a character is brought to life. But I want to think about what I have read before I move on for only in this way will I appreciate the whole as being both the sum of, and more than the sum of, its parts.
Susan Hill is by no means a literary snob. She is a reader, first and foremost, who takes pleasure in the written word. Which is why she can say
However great a writer is � Proust, say, or James Joyce the fact that so very many wiling and intelligent readers find them difficult, even impenetrable, is surely a mark, albeit in pencil, against them.
and
But if the lives of children in Elizabethan England, or a magical country called Narnia, and stories about creatures called Moomins are a means of escape from the often dull and tiresome everyday world, as well as being good books, what is the argument against that? Computer games are escapist, going to football matches or the cinema, or watching soaps or costume drama on television, are al forms of escapism. We need some.
Reading, all said and done, is an escape: from a reality that would drive us mad if we look at it squarely in the face. It is a drug, but one with no after-effects. It is an addiction that one does not want to cure.
--------------------------------------
As I climbed to the top of the house I came upon a book here on a stair, another book there on a window ledge, a small pile of books on the step outside a bedroom door, and saw that half of the books here lead a peripatetic life, never knowing where they will be expected to lay their heads next, while the rest sleep soundly for years in the same position, quite undisturbed. But as in the fairy tales, sooner or later someone wakes you, even from a sleep of a hundred years, and so I have woken books and taken them out, shaken them and slapped them on the back, opened them to the light and fresh air, sneezing as the dust has puffed up from their pages. It must have been a shock for them. Or perhaps it was a wonderful liberation, as they were brought back to life and fresh purpose like Lazarus, for a book which is closed and unread is not alive, it is only packed, like a foetus, with potential.
Was it a shock or a liberation for Jeeves as he was woken up from a decades-long sleep on a sleepy summer afternoon by a bored Indian teenager? Whatever it must have been, I am sure he would have raised the corner of his lip one-sixteenth of an inch and said: “I am glad to have given satisfaction, sir.�
This is a wonderful read.
Read
April 11, 2020I found this utterly compelling up to, oh, about page six. After that it swiftly moved from the mildly interesting to the mostly annoying. at times I exclaimed to myself 'how did she get to know at age eighteen, and how did she end up babysitting for , and how did she manage to get her first novel published at eighteen ? As for the rest, her opinions on different books, including those about books she has not read (Jane Austen) which are no less strong and definite, I found it less and less interesting. My fingers yearned to skip, maybe into an entirely different book, I yawned within myself.
In my opinion if you want a light, chatty wander round British twentieth century fiction concentrating on the post WWII era, this is your book, her literary tastes and interests are that insular (and time limited), which is fine, that's her taste, but it does strike me as remarkable for somebody active in publishing at a time when here has been an explosion of English language writing round the globe. She does want to read (I think she's left that a bit late, a book written by a very young man, a young author's reading), she did read Maupassant in French as a school girl and later in English. and are both mentioned, otherwise her interest is almost exclusively Anglo-Saxon. My feeling from ŷ and the books on offer in bookshops is that her taste is unusually narrow in time and space, maybe even in genre, as she seems only interested in literary fiction, crime fiction, biographies of writers and buying non-fiction books about things that she has no need of, for example a book about training an aggressive dog (of which she says she has none).
There is a lot of name dropping, I didn't mind this so much, she was in publishing as well as an author - naturally she knows other writers, it is just that what she had to say about books came across as mostly asinine, while I expected an author's insight rather than their froth. But that is my bad temper speaking, my asinine froth will be somebody else's cheerful chatter. I hope, equally it is my own fault for being naive, authors can be asinine too.
Naively I had assumed that a book with the subtitle 'A year of reading from home' would be about her year of reading, the books she read and what she discovered, in fact it was one part about the books she did not read or would not read one part about writers she had met or had obscure connections with, 1/4 part opinions that she had about books which she had never read, 1/2 part general autobiographical material, one part books she had in her house, one part the books she would never get rid of. Eventually she compiles a list of the forty books she thinks she could cope with reading for the rest of her life if in some curious scenario she had no access to any others . I feel that maybe I completely misunderstood her and that the book is in fact an intense mediation on reading and her associated thoughts on things connected to reading that occur in between her decision to read from her home collection of books and the moment when she finds on the landing.
Alternatively I might suspect that what happened was that she had discussed the idea with her publisher, spent the advance, and then a week before the due date sat night and day at the kitchen table alternating drinking coffee, then brandy, while taping out this book. It really is that disjointed. She could maybe have written a book of literary remembrances - her meeting with the imperious Edith Sitwell I thought worth reading.
Oddly though until I read this book it had influenced me considerably, it was a review of it that encouraged me to return to my own bookshelves and read the books I had bought and never read, and those I had read and forgotten, or read and wanted to reread, now that I have finally read the book that inspired all that I wonder if it was actually a bad idea. Better maybe to move outwards and onwards and to be open to new impressions. I don't know any more...
In my opinion if you want a light, chatty wander round British twentieth century fiction concentrating on the post WWII era, this is your book, her literary tastes and interests are that insular (and time limited), which is fine, that's her taste, but it does strike me as remarkable for somebody active in publishing at a time when here has been an explosion of English language writing round the globe. She does want to read (I think she's left that a bit late, a book written by a very young man, a young author's reading), she did read Maupassant in French as a school girl and later in English. and are both mentioned, otherwise her interest is almost exclusively Anglo-Saxon. My feeling from ŷ and the books on offer in bookshops is that her taste is unusually narrow in time and space, maybe even in genre, as she seems only interested in literary fiction, crime fiction, biographies of writers and buying non-fiction books about things that she has no need of, for example a book about training an aggressive dog (of which she says she has none).
There is a lot of name dropping, I didn't mind this so much, she was in publishing as well as an author - naturally she knows other writers, it is just that what she had to say about books came across as mostly asinine, while I expected an author's insight rather than their froth. But that is my bad temper speaking, my asinine froth will be somebody else's cheerful chatter. I hope, equally it is my own fault for being naive, authors can be asinine too.
Naively I had assumed that a book with the subtitle 'A year of reading from home' would be about her year of reading, the books she read and what she discovered, in fact it was one part about the books she did not read or would not read one part about writers she had met or had obscure connections with, 1/4 part opinions that she had about books which she had never read, 1/2 part general autobiographical material, one part books she had in her house, one part the books she would never get rid of. Eventually she compiles a list of the forty books she thinks she could cope with reading for the rest of her life if in some curious scenario she had no access to any others . I feel that maybe I completely misunderstood her and that the book is in fact an intense mediation on reading and her associated thoughts on things connected to reading that occur in between her decision to read from her home collection of books and the moment when she finds on the landing.
Alternatively I might suspect that what happened was that she had discussed the idea with her publisher, spent the advance, and then a week before the due date sat night and day at the kitchen table alternating drinking coffee, then brandy, while taping out this book. It really is that disjointed. She could maybe have written a book of literary remembrances - her meeting with the imperious Edith Sitwell I thought worth reading.
Oddly though until I read this book it had influenced me considerably, it was a review of it that encouraged me to return to my own bookshelves and read the books I had bought and never read, and those I had read and forgotten, or read and wanted to reread, now that I have finally read the book that inspired all that I wonder if it was actually a bad idea. Better maybe to move outwards and onwards and to be open to new impressions. I don't know any more...
June 11, 2012
I adore books about books - and when I saw a Guardian Book Review of this book, I was interested. Unfortunately this book is not so much a book about books (nor a book about reading) as much as it is a book about People Susan Hill Has Met.
Did you know she had lunch with Benjamin Britten who liked her novel? That she once waited on a doorstep with TS Eliot? E.M. Forster once stepped on her toes? Kingsley Amis once said to her in 'a genuine tone' that he was very proud of his son? That she interviewed one Sitwell and didn't impress another Sitwell? That Bruce Chatwin's parents lived doors down from her? And so it goes on.
I had hoped for a book about book lovers' quirks; a book about what happens when your home is littered with books; a book with gentle, smart readings of the author's favourite books. I certainly did not get any of that (but did you know that Susan Hill was once on a reading panel with Roald Dahl?).
Back to Anne Fadiman's "Ex Libris" and Alberto Maguel's "A History of Reading", then.
Did you know she had lunch with Benjamin Britten who liked her novel? That she once waited on a doorstep with TS Eliot? E.M. Forster once stepped on her toes? Kingsley Amis once said to her in 'a genuine tone' that he was very proud of his son? That she interviewed one Sitwell and didn't impress another Sitwell? That Bruce Chatwin's parents lived doors down from her? And so it goes on.
I had hoped for a book about book lovers' quirks; a book about what happens when your home is littered with books; a book with gentle, smart readings of the author's favourite books. I certainly did not get any of that (but did you know that Susan Hill was once on a reading panel with Roald Dahl?).
Back to Anne Fadiman's "Ex Libris" and Alberto Maguel's "A History of Reading", then.
February 25, 2017
Rating: 3.5* of five
The Publisher Says: Early one autumn afternoon in pursuit of an elusive book on her shelves, Susan Hill encountered dozens of others that she had never read, or forgotten she owned, or wanted to read for a second time. The discovery inspired her to embark on a year-long voyage through her books, forsaking new purchases in order to get to know her own collection again.
A book which is left on a shelf for a decade is a dead thing, but it is also a chrysalis, packed with the potential to burst into new life. Wandering through her house that day, Hill's eyes were opened to how much of that life was stored in her home, neglected for years. Howard's End is on the Landing charts the journey of one of the nation's most accomplished authors as she revisits the conversations, libraries and bookshelves of the past that have informed a lifetime of reading and writing.
My Review: Haven't all of us who possess a lot of books done this? “I will not buy a new book until I have read x from my shelves!� Uh huh. “No seriously THIS year I mean it, I'm not buying a book! Not one! No!� Mmm hmmm “Really!! I WILL NOT!� Yes dear.
I have no idea how Ms. Hill fared in her commitment not to buy any new books for a year (I suspect poorly, but I'm a suspicious old bugger, I am). I read this lovely memoir of her her reading life with pleasure, because she told me enough about the books that sparked the memories she shares for me to capture my own memories of the books, or to latch on to her sense of them, their place in her life, and the overall effect is to offer her own context as well as the book's.
I like that idea. I like to read what other readers think about when they're reading or after they've finished or even before they've decided what to read next. (Makes sense, doesn't it, here on this site?) And when that reader has written some very, very popular books, published some very good books, and talked about books on radio, television, and stage, I mean! Go fight those odds. I had to read this book. And then re-read it. I loved the experience of both, and would never ask for those eyeblinks back.
There are two passages I've come to and come back to multiple times. One is from author David Cecil's book Library Looking Glass: A Personal Anthology, a tome and a writer absolutely unknown to my poorly educated little ol' Texan self; while Ms. Hill does a wee bit of Internet bashing at the beginning of this book, I found Mother Internet most helpful in digging up a potted biography on Wikipedia of this fourth child of a marquess and father of an actor, an historian, and a literary agent. He was a very old-school gent, and deeply deeply steeped in a bygone literary tradition, author of books on Tennyson and Max Beerbohm and Dorothy Osborne...ye gods how grisly it all sounds to my ear. But then Hill quotes this from his 1975 “Personal Anthology:�
Oh yes indeed, Lord David. Oh yes indeed, and so well said. Hardly a surprise, I suppose, this gift he shows there with the gab, given the amount and the quality of the poetry he spent his life reading, analyzing, delving into, parsing, disassembling and reassembling and explicating to generations of young scholars. But how surprising, how very satisfying to find, in a book about someone else's readerly DNA, a hitherto uncatalogued strand of my own.
Hill meditates on the subject of what forms a person, on readerly DNA, later in the book. The passage is one I found calling out to me while I was reading other books, and I marked it for easy access. It has helped me understand the reasons that I read, and the reasons that I decide not to read, certain books or genres or authors.
It is the reason I am so interested in what others who, like me, crave the written story and the printed book, have to say about their reading, and their lives. We're all made of a unique set of genes, and a unique formula of books. It makes us deeply flawed, and deeply interesting.
Even as I turned the pages of the book again and sometimes two or three times, to re-read and re-savor some lovely or lively moment of memory or of sensory pleasure, even as I contemplated my own version of this book, I was aware of a sense of want, a lack of something I was expecting and not getting. It feels churlish to bring it up, but it's the reason I've given the book a half-star less than I would have otherwise. Please forgive the nosy American, Ms. Hill, but...so? And you are...? I'm asking for a wee little bit more of your CV, your activities in some...not a great deal, just some...more detail than you give. The small bits of personal information that are here are those that a very congenial acquaintance would provide, and I have the sense that is exactly and precisely what was intended to be offered.
But we're all readers here, ma'am. We're all in the club. A tell-all dishfest on le monde litteraire? No, not this book (though one of those would be lovely)...but a few more lines of whys and hows and whos would not have come amiss, nor would a sense of your place in life as the discoveries you limn for us have weighed down the narrative unduly.
A minor cavil. A delight of a book. My warmest personal thanks from England's 1644 colonial foundation on Long Island to the Long Barn.
The Publisher Says: Early one autumn afternoon in pursuit of an elusive book on her shelves, Susan Hill encountered dozens of others that she had never read, or forgotten she owned, or wanted to read for a second time. The discovery inspired her to embark on a year-long voyage through her books, forsaking new purchases in order to get to know her own collection again.
A book which is left on a shelf for a decade is a dead thing, but it is also a chrysalis, packed with the potential to burst into new life. Wandering through her house that day, Hill's eyes were opened to how much of that life was stored in her home, neglected for years. Howard's End is on the Landing charts the journey of one of the nation's most accomplished authors as she revisits the conversations, libraries and bookshelves of the past that have informed a lifetime of reading and writing.
My Review: Haven't all of us who possess a lot of books done this? “I will not buy a new book until I have read x from my shelves!� Uh huh. “No seriously THIS year I mean it, I'm not buying a book! Not one! No!� Mmm hmmm “Really!! I WILL NOT!� Yes dear.
I have no idea how Ms. Hill fared in her commitment not to buy any new books for a year (I suspect poorly, but I'm a suspicious old bugger, I am). I read this lovely memoir of her her reading life with pleasure, because she told me enough about the books that sparked the memories she shares for me to capture my own memories of the books, or to latch on to her sense of them, their place in her life, and the overall effect is to offer her own context as well as the book's.
I like that idea. I like to read what other readers think about when they're reading or after they've finished or even before they've decided what to read next. (Makes sense, doesn't it, here on this site?) And when that reader has written some very, very popular books, published some very good books, and talked about books on radio, television, and stage, I mean! Go fight those odds. I had to read this book. And then re-read it. I loved the experience of both, and would never ask for those eyeblinks back.
There are two passages I've come to and come back to multiple times. One is from author David Cecil's book Library Looking Glass: A Personal Anthology, a tome and a writer absolutely unknown to my poorly educated little ol' Texan self; while Ms. Hill does a wee bit of Internet bashing at the beginning of this book, I found Mother Internet most helpful in digging up a potted biography on Wikipedia of this fourth child of a marquess and father of an actor, an historian, and a literary agent. He was a very old-school gent, and deeply deeply steeped in a bygone literary tradition, author of books on Tennyson and Max Beerbohm and Dorothy Osborne...ye gods how grisly it all sounds to my ear. But then Hill quotes this from his 1975 “Personal Anthology:�
It is often said that mankind needs a faith if the world is to be improved. In fact, unless the faith is vigilantly and regularly checked by a sense of man's fallibility, it is likely to make the world worse. From Torquemada to Robespierre and Hitler the men who have made mankind suffer the most have been inspired to do so have been inspired to do so by a strong faith; so strong that it led them to think their crimes were acts of virtue necessary to help them achieve their aim, which was to build some sort of an ideal kingdom on earth.(pp156-157, English softcover edition)
Oh yes indeed, Lord David. Oh yes indeed, and so well said. Hardly a surprise, I suppose, this gift he shows there with the gab, given the amount and the quality of the poetry he spent his life reading, analyzing, delving into, parsing, disassembling and reassembling and explicating to generations of young scholars. But how surprising, how very satisfying to find, in a book about someone else's readerly DNA, a hitherto uncatalogued strand of my own.
Hill meditates on the subject of what forms a person, on readerly DNA, later in the book. The passage is one I found calling out to me while I was reading other books, and I marked it for easy access. It has helped me understand the reasons that I read, and the reasons that I decide not to read, certain books or genres or authors.
Books help to form us. If you cut me open, will you find volume after volume, page after page, the contents of every one I have ever read, somehow transmuted and transformed into me? � But if the books I have read have helped to form me, then probably nobody else who ever lived has read exactly the same books, all the same books and only the same books, as me. So just as my genes and the soul within me make me uniquely me, so I am the unique sum of the books I have read. I am my literary DNA.(pp201-202, English softcover edition)
It is the reason I am so interested in what others who, like me, crave the written story and the printed book, have to say about their reading, and their lives. We're all made of a unique set of genes, and a unique formula of books. It makes us deeply flawed, and deeply interesting.
Even as I turned the pages of the book again and sometimes two or three times, to re-read and re-savor some lovely or lively moment of memory or of sensory pleasure, even as I contemplated my own version of this book, I was aware of a sense of want, a lack of something I was expecting and not getting. It feels churlish to bring it up, but it's the reason I've given the book a half-star less than I would have otherwise. Please forgive the nosy American, Ms. Hill, but...so? And you are...? I'm asking for a wee little bit more of your CV, your activities in some...not a great deal, just some...more detail than you give. The small bits of personal information that are here are those that a very congenial acquaintance would provide, and I have the sense that is exactly and precisely what was intended to be offered.
But we're all readers here, ma'am. We're all in the club. A tell-all dishfest on le monde litteraire? No, not this book (though one of those would be lovely)...but a few more lines of whys and hows and whos would not have come amiss, nor would a sense of your place in life as the discoveries you limn for us have weighed down the narrative unduly.
A minor cavil. A delight of a book. My warmest personal thanks from England's 1644 colonial foundation on Long Island to the Long Barn.
September 3, 2017
Having noted there is a further volume by Susan Hill, about her reading life, “Jacob’s Room is Full of Books,� I decided to go back and re-read the wonderful, “Howard’s End is On the Landing.� In this volume, Hill decides to re-discover her own book collection, by spending a year just reading the books in her house. Like all readers, I tend to have endless amounts of books to get through � books to review, reading group choices and all those new purchases that are begging to be read. Although I have books everywhere in my house, a lack of room has meant that I have happily switched most of my reading to what Hill refers to as a ,”wretched e-reader,� but I cannot say that I find much difference between reading books or reading on my kindle. When commuting, travelling or just reading in bed, I find my kindle comfortable and, after all, it is what is contained within the book that is more important to me than the format.
That said, I can see why Susan Hill (an author and publisher) is keen to promote reading books and I agree with her that some books need to be read as such� especially those for children and she discusses much about the joys of pop-up and picture books. Obviously, as an author, she has also met many great authors and is willing to share stories about her encounters with some of the greats of the literary world. However, it is really when she wanders her bookshelves that she opens up and talks about what these books, and authors, mean to her � Dickens, Virginia Woolf, Elizabeth Bowen, Thomas Hardy, travel writing, forgotten authors, diaries, humour, libraries and more are all covered in this delightful memoir. I did not agree with all her choices; I love Proust and Thomas Mann and Jane Austen, all authors she finds difficult; but likewise I struggle with some books and authors that she loves. What we both share is a love of reading and, for any reader, this book is a delight. It may even lead you to new books and authors, and a sense that you have your own collection to explore anew.
That said, I can see why Susan Hill (an author and publisher) is keen to promote reading books and I agree with her that some books need to be read as such� especially those for children and she discusses much about the joys of pop-up and picture books. Obviously, as an author, she has also met many great authors and is willing to share stories about her encounters with some of the greats of the literary world. However, it is really when she wanders her bookshelves that she opens up and talks about what these books, and authors, mean to her � Dickens, Virginia Woolf, Elizabeth Bowen, Thomas Hardy, travel writing, forgotten authors, diaries, humour, libraries and more are all covered in this delightful memoir. I did not agree with all her choices; I love Proust and Thomas Mann and Jane Austen, all authors she finds difficult; but likewise I struggle with some books and authors that she loves. What we both share is a love of reading and, for any reader, this book is a delight. It may even lead you to new books and authors, and a sense that you have your own collection to explore anew.
March 19, 2017
What's not to love about books about books and with this wonderful cover and title I just had to delve in, pen and notebook in hand. And it did not let me down. I had quite some exercise, reading a few lines, getting up from my chair to go to my book cases to see if I had this or that book, to the computer to read up about the author and back to my chair to pick up the book again.
January 27, 2019
Susan Hill was looking for "Howards End" in her cozy farmhouse filled with unorganized bookshelves. As she searched, she came across many unread books, as well as well as some old favorites that she would love to reread. She decided to spend a year reading only books in her possession (with the exception of library academic books and books sent for her to review).
She takes us on a delightful journey through her her books as she describes her old wooden farmhouse. Bookshelves fill every room, although she avoids the books belonging to SP or "Shakespeare Professor" Stanley Wells, her husband. She has anecdotes about books she read at school, authors she interviewed on her radio show, and others she met at parties. Hill is a well-known author herself, and had written thirty-seven books when this book was published. She is also a publisher so she appreciates fine paper, attractive fonts, and the feel of a paper book in her hands.
She writes about her books with the warmth that one feels on seeing an old friend again. Hill has a fondness for classic books and British authors, especially some of the 20th Century writers. She discussed some authors in individual chapters with Virginia Wolfe as a favorite author.
I enjoyed "Howards End is on the Landing" and found a few books to add to my reading list. There is a list of forty books which she decided to read during the year. They are not described as the best forty books ever written, just the forty treasured books that were calling to her to be read at this time. This is a charming memoir using books as a focus since Hill's life has revolved around books--as an author, an interviewer, a reviewer, and a publisher.
She takes us on a delightful journey through her her books as she describes her old wooden farmhouse. Bookshelves fill every room, although she avoids the books belonging to SP or "Shakespeare Professor" Stanley Wells, her husband. She has anecdotes about books she read at school, authors she interviewed on her radio show, and others she met at parties. Hill is a well-known author herself, and had written thirty-seven books when this book was published. She is also a publisher so she appreciates fine paper, attractive fonts, and the feel of a paper book in her hands.
She writes about her books with the warmth that one feels on seeing an old friend again. Hill has a fondness for classic books and British authors, especially some of the 20th Century writers. She discussed some authors in individual chapters with Virginia Wolfe as a favorite author.
I enjoyed "Howards End is on the Landing" and found a few books to add to my reading list. There is a list of forty books which she decided to read during the year. They are not described as the best forty books ever written, just the forty treasured books that were calling to her to be read at this time. This is a charming memoir using books as a focus since Hill's life has revolved around books--as an author, an interviewer, a reviewer, and a publisher.
October 21, 2011
Being a book about books, I thought it was a pretty sure thing that I would really like this. And I did enjoy it - devoured it quickly and was inspired to gaze adoringly at my bookshelves and reminded of various authors I want to read.
But I also found it a little bit irritating - there's rather a lot of what can feel like name-dropping, and Hill's dismissal of e-readers, of certain authors, and of, you know, the literary production of entire nations ('I have a problem with Canadian as I do with Australian writers.' ... well, okay) got on my nerves, and made this feel rather stuffy - not as generous-spirited and open as I want a book about book-loving to be. (I sympathise on the e-readers thing, but I was also reminded while reading that they might be quite useful to those who - unlike Susan Hill - don't have room for three separate complete editions of Hardy in their home. You know?)
Another example, from page fifty, which is where I started getting cross: 'The book [Bruce Chatwin] was promoting was called The Songlines, and was about Australian aborigines, in whom I had then, as now, little interest.'
This - just - the tone of this really irritates me! It makes me feel like the last thing Susan Hill should be doing is spending a year reading from home. Thousands of books though she may have, her literary world actually felt rather small.
But I also found it a little bit irritating - there's rather a lot of what can feel like name-dropping, and Hill's dismissal of e-readers, of certain authors, and of, you know, the literary production of entire nations ('I have a problem with Canadian as I do with Australian writers.' ... well, okay) got on my nerves, and made this feel rather stuffy - not as generous-spirited and open as I want a book about book-loving to be. (I sympathise on the e-readers thing, but I was also reminded while reading that they might be quite useful to those who - unlike Susan Hill - don't have room for three separate complete editions of Hardy in their home. You know?)
Another example, from page fifty, which is where I started getting cross: 'The book [Bruce Chatwin] was promoting was called The Songlines, and was about Australian aborigines, in whom I had then, as now, little interest.'
This - just - the tone of this really irritates me! It makes me feel like the last thing Susan Hill should be doing is spending a year reading from home. Thousands of books though she may have, her literary world actually felt rather small.
March 20, 2017
This was a fun look of the author's journey through her own book collection. One day she realized she had lots of books she hadn't read, forgotten about or wanted to read again. She makes a vow to spend a year reading only books she already has (although she leaves lots of exemptions). It's a fun trip and makes me want to try it but probably won't. I love new books too much. Still, like her, I wonder how some books ended up on my shelf or why I haven't read others.
Towards the end, she is doing a lot of rereading and reads a lot more "literature" than I do. Personally I don't read Virginia Wolfe every year, or if I'm totally honest, every five years. Maybe because she's a writer she looks for other things than I d0.
I was impressed at the number of authors she's met and socialized with. It seems like there are a lot of author parties in London and somehow that makes me smile. The idea of authors getting together and discussing the writing process and books they want to read is comforting and glamorous.
It's a really fun read. Thanks to my GRI Secret Santa for the book. It did have one drawback. I've added more books to my extensive TBR pile. Sigh.
Towards the end, she is doing a lot of rereading and reads a lot more "literature" than I do. Personally I don't read Virginia Wolfe every year, or if I'm totally honest, every five years. Maybe because she's a writer she looks for other things than I d0.
I was impressed at the number of authors she's met and socialized with. It seems like there are a lot of author parties in London and somehow that makes me smile. The idea of authors getting together and discussing the writing process and books they want to read is comforting and glamorous.
It's a really fun read. Thanks to my GRI Secret Santa for the book. It did have one drawback. I've added more books to my extensive TBR pile. Sigh.
March 2, 2016
I have dipped into this book over the years (5 or so) that I have owned it, but this is the first time I have read it in its entirety. Highly recommended for book-lovers, book-hoarders and people who love literary trivia. Also recommended for people who love to make lists and comparisons, as one of the 'tasks' that author Susan Hills sets for herself is not only to spend a year reading only from her own bookshelves, but also to attempt to refine her books to an essential 40. We are what we read; absolutely Hill believes this, and so do I. I felt it was a privilege, really, to get an intimate glimpse into such a well-read mind. Some of the authors she discussed were already favourites of mine, while others were unknown to me. One of the most moving chapters was primarily about Benjamin Britten; music, words and memory are often intertwined, and fascinatingly so in these reminiscences.
March 27, 2011
For the most part I liked it, little gems of quotes here and there but all-in-all I found Susan Hill pretentious and severely name dropping. I enjoyed her experience in literally running into E. M. Forster but after the first couple of run-ins with prevalent authors, it just gets old. She's entirely British-thinking which I can appreciate but not when she's letting her reader know that obviously they haven't lived if they didn't have experience with a certain amateur printing press all because she wanted to be like Virginia Woolf. Sooooooooooooooo I love me a good book memoir, and there were parts/sections/small essays that I enjoyed reading because I felt as if I had found another kindred spirit when it comes to reading, but alas, an individual that has become famous by writing and well, were we to meet in life I do not think I would enjoy her company. Oh and I love opening a book, smelling, feeling, etc. but I am proud to say that I own a Kindle and I refuse to be ashamed of it.
August 27, 2017
While searching for a specific book from her library, Susan Hill discovered that the book was not where she thought it would be. However she did discover many books that she had not read, or deserved a re-read. This inspired a new reading project, to spend the next year dipping into her own library and read the books she has forsaken. Howards End is on the Landing not necessarily charts her reading but more Susan Hill’s opinions on literature and the bookish world.
First thing you discover is that Susan Hill’s house is full of books, not sorted and no order. She had to search for the book she was looking for, expecting it in the one place but not finding it. I love having my library like this, I recently had to look for my copy of Anna Karenina and I just loved looking at all my books and remembering the stories and memories that go with each one. This is the basic premise of this memoir; Hill goes through her bookshelves and shares memories and thoughts she has about the state of literature.
Susan Hill goes on talking about her thoughts on being an author, the publishing world, self-publishing, libraries, bookshelves, re-reading and even the joys of reading slowly. I have recently discovered the joys of re-reading and reading slowly so on so many thoughts, Hall and I were on the same page. Even though we come from different lives, it was such a joy reading a book devoted to her memories of all the books that sit on her shelves, and scattered across her house.
I have tried to spend a year not buying any new books, in the hopes to read more of the books on my shelves. It did not work. I did however discover how great the library is and started using my local library more. I also discovered how easy it is to get books without having to spend money, especially ARCs. The book buying ban did not work, I still have shelves full of books I still need to read. I know my taste in literature has drastically changed, and I am not sure if I should cull some of these books even if I have never read them.
The end of Howards End is on the Landing talks about if she had to cut down her library to forty books, which ones she will keep. The thought of culling your library so drastically terrifies me but I did enjoy pondering which books I would keep if I did have to cull that much. Or maybe my house burnt down, which books I would rebuy to start my new collection. I know Frankenstein, Crime and Punishment, Lolita, and most of the books on my favourite’s shelf would remain. However it is not about picking favourites, more about picking the books you would like to read over and over again. Which makes for an interesting thought process.
I am interested in the topic of memoirs in association with books like what is found in Howards End is on the Landing. My memories with this memoir will be closely associated with sitting in a hospital in Nouméa as my mother-in-law passed away. It gives me mixed feelings to love a book so much in such a sad time for my family. I even read this as an eBook on my phone, an experience I do not enjoy either but it was more convenient than carrying a book around.
I found Howards End is on the Landing to be one of the better books about books out there, I am disappointed that my memories of it will be attached to such a tragic event. I found Susan Hill to be very tender towards her love of books, while remaining unafraid to express why she did not like a book. She is never dismissive of the books she did not enjoy, she just does not have the desire to read them. I think it would be a hard balance to get that balance right without sounding like a cranky reader. Howards End is on the Landing will hold a special place in my heart and I do hope others get a chance to read it.
This book originally appeared on my blog;
First thing you discover is that Susan Hill’s house is full of books, not sorted and no order. She had to search for the book she was looking for, expecting it in the one place but not finding it. I love having my library like this, I recently had to look for my copy of Anna Karenina and I just loved looking at all my books and remembering the stories and memories that go with each one. This is the basic premise of this memoir; Hill goes through her bookshelves and shares memories and thoughts she has about the state of literature.
Susan Hill goes on talking about her thoughts on being an author, the publishing world, self-publishing, libraries, bookshelves, re-reading and even the joys of reading slowly. I have recently discovered the joys of re-reading and reading slowly so on so many thoughts, Hall and I were on the same page. Even though we come from different lives, it was such a joy reading a book devoted to her memories of all the books that sit on her shelves, and scattered across her house.
I have tried to spend a year not buying any new books, in the hopes to read more of the books on my shelves. It did not work. I did however discover how great the library is and started using my local library more. I also discovered how easy it is to get books without having to spend money, especially ARCs. The book buying ban did not work, I still have shelves full of books I still need to read. I know my taste in literature has drastically changed, and I am not sure if I should cull some of these books even if I have never read them.
The end of Howards End is on the Landing talks about if she had to cut down her library to forty books, which ones she will keep. The thought of culling your library so drastically terrifies me but I did enjoy pondering which books I would keep if I did have to cull that much. Or maybe my house burnt down, which books I would rebuy to start my new collection. I know Frankenstein, Crime and Punishment, Lolita, and most of the books on my favourite’s shelf would remain. However it is not about picking favourites, more about picking the books you would like to read over and over again. Which makes for an interesting thought process.
I am interested in the topic of memoirs in association with books like what is found in Howards End is on the Landing. My memories with this memoir will be closely associated with sitting in a hospital in Nouméa as my mother-in-law passed away. It gives me mixed feelings to love a book so much in such a sad time for my family. I even read this as an eBook on my phone, an experience I do not enjoy either but it was more convenient than carrying a book around.
I found Howards End is on the Landing to be one of the better books about books out there, I am disappointed that my memories of it will be attached to such a tragic event. I found Susan Hill to be very tender towards her love of books, while remaining unafraid to express why she did not like a book. She is never dismissive of the books she did not enjoy, she just does not have the desire to read them. I think it would be a hard balance to get that balance right without sounding like a cranky reader. Howards End is on the Landing will hold a special place in my heart and I do hope others get a chance to read it.
This book originally appeared on my blog;
February 21, 2013
Really clever memoir. Susan Hill, searching for one book uncovers oodles that she had forgotten she had, forgotten she had read, didn't rememeber ever having seen before. If this sounds familiar you'll really enjoy this traipse through literature. Wonderfully ' name-droppy ' ( I know there is no such word but it fits I assure you ). In a year when she decides to buy no new books, (Good grief) and opts to re-discover her own collection ( Hmmmm, interesting ) She reflects on the power of books, the joy of encountering writers and like minded people and litters the chapters with personal anecdotes and descriptions of the highs and lows of her reading life. fabulous. The only small drawback to this tome is that it has left me with a whole list of writers and books that now join my to read list.. Oh thank you so much Susan
May 28, 2021
Revisions and update 28 May 2021
Great title: and quite a good book.
I have a Goodread's shelf called Books and Reading, for all those tomes which help guide my way through literature past and present and its practitioners; books of books, classic and obscure, and books of authors, their lives and works. Howards End Is on the Landing fits the bill pretty well.
Susan Hill devoted a year to reading or re-reading a selection of books from her own vast collection, scattered about the many rooms of her old farmhouse in the Cotswolds where she has lived for many years. She came up with a list of 40 titles which represents a synthesis of what she thought was the best and most worthwhile, along the way giving an account of the many literary luminaries she encountered as a student, author, broadcaster and publisher, including CS Lewis, Roald Dahl (she thought he was quite tetchy), VS Naipaul and EM Forster.
In an era when writers could more easily go unrecognised Hill was browsing in the bookstacks of the London Library. But there was no mistaking the memorable face of C Day Lewis as he stood aside to allow the young Hill, most conscious of the moment, to pass in the narrow stacks:
How did Ms Hill manage to read or re-read the 40 titles? She rationed her internet use and chose not to buy or read new books. That’s how you do it. I must say this shows considerable discipline, as I know in my case temptation is high as I have at least eight new and second hand book stores within two kilometres of where I live and more than a dozen street libraries. I have found numerous treasures in these little boxes, just with regular checking.
I was enjoying this read until I found an outrageous prejudice which was almost a stopper. On page 70 Susan Hill has a list of some of her books she found in her house but had not read. She includes a book by the award-winning Australian author Murray Bail:
So, overall, nice reminiscences, excellent recommendations, but it will be good when Australia becomes a republic.
Great title: and quite a good book.
I have a Goodread's shelf called Books and Reading, for all those tomes which help guide my way through literature past and present and its practitioners; books of books, classic and obscure, and books of authors, their lives and works. Howards End Is on the Landing fits the bill pretty well.
Susan Hill devoted a year to reading or re-reading a selection of books from her own vast collection, scattered about the many rooms of her old farmhouse in the Cotswolds where she has lived for many years. She came up with a list of 40 titles which represents a synthesis of what she thought was the best and most worthwhile, along the way giving an account of the many literary luminaries she encountered as a student, author, broadcaster and publisher, including CS Lewis, Roald Dahl (she thought he was quite tetchy), VS Naipaul and EM Forster.
In an era when writers could more easily go unrecognised Hill was browsing in the bookstacks of the London Library. But there was no mistaking the memorable face of C Day Lewis as he stood aside to allow the young Hill, most conscious of the moment, to pass in the narrow stacks:
Not, though, as conscious as I was of the small man with the thinning hair and a melancholy moustache who dropped a book on my foot in the Elizabethan poetry section some weeks later. There was a small flurry of exclamations and apology and demur as I bent down, painful foot notwithstanding, picked up the book and handed it back to the elderly gentleman � and found myself looking into the watery eyes of E M Forster. How to explain the impact of that moment? How to stand and smile and say nothing, when through my head ran the opening lines of Howards End, ‘One may as well begin with Helen’s letters� alongside vivid images of from the Malabar Caves of A Passage to India? …He wore a tweed jacket. He wore, I think, spectacles that had slipped down his nose. He seemed slightly stooping and wholly unmemorable and I have remembered everything about him for nearly fifty years. (p19)At the end of this exercise we end up with Hill’s personal selection which is very British and drawn from the nineteenth up till the middle twentieth century. This has led directly to my reading (Graham Greene), (Carson McCullers) and by Penelope Fitzgerald (Hill chose , which I have also enjoyed, but she still got me to Fitzgerald). The same goes for Anita Brookner; she chose , I read .
How did Ms Hill manage to read or re-read the 40 titles? She rationed her internet use and chose not to buy or read new books. That’s how you do it. I must say this shows considerable discipline, as I know in my case temptation is high as I have at least eight new and second hand book stores within two kilometres of where I live and more than a dozen street libraries. I have found numerous treasures in these little boxes, just with regular checking.
I was enjoying this read until I found an outrageous prejudice which was almost a stopper. On page 70 Susan Hill has a list of some of her books she found in her house but had not read. She includes a book by the award-winning Australian author Murray Bail:
Eucalyptus. Murray Bail. Someone told me that this was a great novel so I bought it, but then I discovered that it was great Australian novel so I put it away. I find it difficult to get to grips with Australian novels. Difficult, but not impossible.� (p70)Hill provides no examples of difficult Australian novels, nor does she deign to explain why she has Aussiephobia (no Australian gets a guernsey). I note she does not include any of the following: Tim Winton, Peter Carey, David Malouf, David Ireland, Christina Stead, Thomas Keneally, Shirley Hazzard, Geraldine Brooks, Kate Grenville, Clive James, Helen Garner or Marcus Zusak.
So, overall, nice reminiscences, excellent recommendations, but it will be good when Australia becomes a republic.
March 26, 2020
What a lovely gentle book this was. It brought me much joy and has given me some great ideas for even more books I want to read!
Susan Hill decided one autumnal evening to take stock of all her books.. and spend one year reading only from her pages without buying any new. She explains the history behind certain favourites, stories from her childhood and time in university, and meetings with some authors who shaped her as the author she is now.
I was chuffed that I knew a fair amount of the authors she discusses, but there were many more I rushed to research immediately after I finished reading. Just a lovely experience into the wonderful world of reading.
Susan Hill decided one autumnal evening to take stock of all her books.. and spend one year reading only from her pages without buying any new. She explains the history behind certain favourites, stories from her childhood and time in university, and meetings with some authors who shaped her as the author she is now.
I was chuffed that I knew a fair amount of the authors she discusses, but there were many more I rushed to research immediately after I finished reading. Just a lovely experience into the wonderful world of reading.
January 21, 2015
Oh, I feel really harsh giving it a 2 star review, my reasoning behind this is my frustration at the constant name-dropping.
I loved the concept of writing about the books she had treasured and loved for years and do enjoy Susan Hill's writing. If only there had been more exploration of that, I would have been very happy and given 4 stars. When she was discussing her books I felt very engaged in whichever book or author she was describing. I felt very let down when another inconsequential anecdote appeared.
For me personally, the name dropping was overwhelming and repugnant. I did think I was reading a highbrow copy of Heat magazine at one point. I don't care how handsome Ian Fleming was at a party, I want to know about opinions of a seasoned author in her own right, on his work and career. Addressing Iris Murdoch's mental decline from Alzheimer's from let's face it, an acquaintance not a dear friend, left me very uncomfortable. Inappropriate and expected better. Very, very disappointed and not for me.
I loved the concept of writing about the books she had treasured and loved for years and do enjoy Susan Hill's writing. If only there had been more exploration of that, I would have been very happy and given 4 stars. When she was discussing her books I felt very engaged in whichever book or author she was describing. I felt very let down when another inconsequential anecdote appeared.
For me personally, the name dropping was overwhelming and repugnant. I did think I was reading a highbrow copy of Heat magazine at one point. I don't care how handsome Ian Fleming was at a party, I want to know about opinions of a seasoned author in her own right, on his work and career. Addressing Iris Murdoch's mental decline from Alzheimer's from let's face it, an acquaintance not a dear friend, left me very uncomfortable. Inappropriate and expected better. Very, very disappointed and not for me.
January 2, 2015
You know that moment when you think, ah, I had a copy of that book; where is it now? This happened to Susan Hill one afternoon, when looking for Howards End, she had a vague recollection of the shelf it was last seen. But in the process of searching for it suddenly realised that her shelves were packed with books that she had not read for a long time, books that had been bought or given, but never opened and books that she had no recollection of ever receiving.
Pledging to not buy any new books for a year, so begins her journey through her bookshelves. Some books bring recollections of how they were obtained, or of meetings with the authors. Others evoke memories of the first time she read the book or of a particular life event. As she reads through her personal library she starts to compile a ‘desert island� list of works that are significant to her.
Mostly this was an enjoyable read. The books that you possess reflect your character to a certain extent, and what Hill has done here is to give us a flavour of her reading habits and personality. There is some serious name dropping going on too, which does get a little much at times. If you are the type of person, who, upon entering another home takes time to look at their bookcases, then you will enjoy this book, but more importantly she poses the question to all readers; have you looked at your bookshelves recently?
Pledging to not buy any new books for a year, so begins her journey through her bookshelves. Some books bring recollections of how they were obtained, or of meetings with the authors. Others evoke memories of the first time she read the book or of a particular life event. As she reads through her personal library she starts to compile a ‘desert island� list of works that are significant to her.
Mostly this was an enjoyable read. The books that you possess reflect your character to a certain extent, and what Hill has done here is to give us a flavour of her reading habits and personality. There is some serious name dropping going on too, which does get a little much at times. If you are the type of person, who, upon entering another home takes time to look at their bookcases, then you will enjoy this book, but more importantly she poses the question to all readers; have you looked at your bookshelves recently?
June 17, 2011
I found this book annoying. I expected a thoughtful approach to reading � what we read, what we neglect, what we return to � but much of the text is self-aggrandizing (Ms. Hill has published many novels and knows many authors). Even comments on the great writer E.M. Forster are limited to the time she ran into him at the British Library. Ms. Hill is approximately my age, so she has lived through the second half of the 20th century and seen the wonderful explosion in literature in diverse voices. Yet the literature considered herein is overwhelmingly British. She seems not to have acquired any books from other cultures and stuck them on her bookshelves for future reading. On the other hand, the book so annoyed me that I tried to analyze my own reading habits and made my own list of books I have been meaning to read or re-read; books to read slowly; books with great titles; books from childhood. I looked beyond the usual novels and nonfiction works and thought about collections of poems and short stories I would like to spend more time with. I even confessed to myself that I will really never finish The Name of the Rose. So, now that I have finished being angry that Ms. Hill slights Jane Austen (repeatedly), I should get to work on my list.
October 24, 2020
I feel sure that author Susan Hill has been to my house, although I can't recall the visit, or has unknowingly crept into my psyche!
Her opening two paragraphs read, 'It began like this. I went to the shelves on the landing to look for a book I knew was there. It was not. But plenty of others were and among them I noticed at least a dozen I realised I had never read. I pursued the elusive book through several rooms and did not find it in any of them, but each time I did find at least a dozen, perhaps two dozen, perhaps two hundred, that I had never read.'
And later on she states, '"I'll tidy your books for you." a so-called friend said, coming to the house and declaring she did not know how I stood it. "I'll categorise them and re-organise them so that you'll never lose one again." How can she not understand that if I let her do such a terrible thing as organise my books, I would never find what I was looking for again? Worse, there would never be any wonderful surprises, as I look for X and Y but, wonderful to relate, find Z, which I thought I had lost years ago. Never the marvellous juxtaposition of a biography of Marilyn Monroe next to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.' [I must confess I went looking for one of my biographies of MM to see what it lived next to ... but I couldn't just locate one!]
See what I mean? From the first extract, Susan Hill obviously knows that I have hundreds (if not thousands) of unread books all around the house, in all sorts of odd places (the bookcases are full - and many double banked). And from the second extract she must be aware that only last month I returned from visiting my daughter in Somerset with a car full of books, 300 in all [in fairness we had been to a massive charity book sale] and when I had put some away to make space on the dining room floor I couldn't find them to show a friend who visited - they have in fact just turned up!
And 'Howards End is on the Landing' continues in similar vein, discussing problems of collecting and storing, outlining her literary influences, giving plenty of memories, both amusing and poignant, of her times meeting famous writers, scorning the use of the e-book, choosing her own favourite books for a desert island and generally putting across the message that books make great companions that she would not want to be without.
The many anecdotes are marvellous, her assessment of a variety of authors, from Charles Dickens, Anthony Trollope, George Eliot, The Brontes, Thomas Hardy and many more of that ilk through to Jorge Luis Borges, Virginia Woolf, Arnold Wesker and others make compulsive reading as do her, often amusing, autobiographical interludes.
Overall it is an absolutely delightful book and one that the reader does not want to end. When it does (sadly) end - appropriately with 'I am taking out far too many books. I need at least another year of reading from home. But now I have reached the landing and here it is. Howards End. There is a shaft of sunlight coming through the small window, in which I just fit, so that I can sit on the elm floorboards with my back to the wall. I open the book ...' - the reader is disappointed that the journey is over and the immediate thought is 'Let's read that again.'
Her opening two paragraphs read, 'It began like this. I went to the shelves on the landing to look for a book I knew was there. It was not. But plenty of others were and among them I noticed at least a dozen I realised I had never read. I pursued the elusive book through several rooms and did not find it in any of them, but each time I did find at least a dozen, perhaps two dozen, perhaps two hundred, that I had never read.'
And later on she states, '"I'll tidy your books for you." a so-called friend said, coming to the house and declaring she did not know how I stood it. "I'll categorise them and re-organise them so that you'll never lose one again." How can she not understand that if I let her do such a terrible thing as organise my books, I would never find what I was looking for again? Worse, there would never be any wonderful surprises, as I look for X and Y but, wonderful to relate, find Z, which I thought I had lost years ago. Never the marvellous juxtaposition of a biography of Marilyn Monroe next to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.' [I must confess I went looking for one of my biographies of MM to see what it lived next to ... but I couldn't just locate one!]
See what I mean? From the first extract, Susan Hill obviously knows that I have hundreds (if not thousands) of unread books all around the house, in all sorts of odd places (the bookcases are full - and many double banked). And from the second extract she must be aware that only last month I returned from visiting my daughter in Somerset with a car full of books, 300 in all [in fairness we had been to a massive charity book sale] and when I had put some away to make space on the dining room floor I couldn't find them to show a friend who visited - they have in fact just turned up!
And 'Howards End is on the Landing' continues in similar vein, discussing problems of collecting and storing, outlining her literary influences, giving plenty of memories, both amusing and poignant, of her times meeting famous writers, scorning the use of the e-book, choosing her own favourite books for a desert island and generally putting across the message that books make great companions that she would not want to be without.
The many anecdotes are marvellous, her assessment of a variety of authors, from Charles Dickens, Anthony Trollope, George Eliot, The Brontes, Thomas Hardy and many more of that ilk through to Jorge Luis Borges, Virginia Woolf, Arnold Wesker and others make compulsive reading as do her, often amusing, autobiographical interludes.
Overall it is an absolutely delightful book and one that the reader does not want to end. When it does (sadly) end - appropriately with 'I am taking out far too many books. I need at least another year of reading from home. But now I have reached the landing and here it is. Howards End. There is a shaft of sunlight coming through the small window, in which I just fit, so that I can sit on the elm floorboards with my back to the wall. I open the book ...' - the reader is disappointed that the journey is over and the immediate thought is 'Let's read that again.'
May 27, 2011
What I love about books like this one: that the author is enthusiastic about books that I know little or nothing about and her essays make me want to add a lot more titles to my "I want to read" list.
What drives me crazy about books like this one: that the author is enthusiastic about books that I know little or nothing about and her essays make me want to add a lot more titles to my "I want to read" list.
This book was especially frustrating because Susan Hill is British, so some of her recommended authors and books are totally unfamiliar to me. I am not even sure I could find them on this side of the pond.
That caveat aside, I found this book fascinating. Susan Hill has been fortunate to meet many wonderful people and have read many great books, so her essays were fun to read even when I wanted to drop everything and go find the books she was referring to.
I recommend this book to Anglophiles, bibliophiles and anyone looking for new reading ideas.
What drives me crazy about books like this one: that the author is enthusiastic about books that I know little or nothing about and her essays make me want to add a lot more titles to my "I want to read" list.
This book was especially frustrating because Susan Hill is British, so some of her recommended authors and books are totally unfamiliar to me. I am not even sure I could find them on this side of the pond.
That caveat aside, I found this book fascinating. Susan Hill has been fortunate to meet many wonderful people and have read many great books, so her essays were fun to read even when I wanted to drop everything and go find the books she was referring to.
I recommend this book to Anglophiles, bibliophiles and anyone looking for new reading ideas.
May 30, 2011
Books help to form us. If you cut me open, will you find volume after volume, page after page, the contents of every one I have ever read, somehow transmuted into me? Alice in Wonderland. The Magic Faraway Tree. The Hound of the Baskervilles. The Book of Job. Bleak House. Wuthering Heights. The Complete Poems of W. H. Auden. The Tale of Mr. Tod. Howards End. What a strange person I must be. But if the books I have read have helped to form me, then probably nobody else who ever lived has read exactly the same books, all the same books as me. So just as my genes and the soul within me make me uniquely me, so I am the unique sum of the books I have read. I am my literary DNA.
Howards End Is on the Landing (p. 202)
~Susan Hill
It isn't often that a book comes along that I want to underline just about every sentence....or at least snag them for my quote collection. Susan Hill's book is such a one. Howards End Is on the Landing
is Hill's journey through her books. One autumn afternoon she is in search of a certain book, but her collection is strewn throughout her house in various rooms, on sundry bookshelves. There is no definite order. Certain books have congregated together--but the logic sometimes escapes her. And as she searches she discovers old friends fondly remembered and strangers that she has never read or even forgotten she ever bought. This discovery sparks a decision to spend a year reading only books from her shelves, sending her on a journey to get to know her own collection again.
Her journey takes her from Shakespeare to Dickens, from W. H. Auden to Roald Dahl, and from Virginia Woolf to Iris Murdoch. Along the way, she shares conversations with authors she has known, visits to libraries she has loved, and the books she has devoured through a lifetime of reading. She gives us comments on the writers, insights into reading, and a window into what informed her own writing. This is a marvelous book for those who love reading. It is part memoir and part review and is very conversational in tone. And I find myself in total agreement with her on the subject of books--no electronic reader can ever give the satisfaction of holding a book in your hand or walking into a room completely shelved in books, whether that be a personal or public library or a bookstore. There is something special about the presence of books that a glowing screen cannot match. Borrowed from the library, but destined to be owned as soon as possible.
Howards End Is on the Landing (p. 202)
~Susan Hill
It isn't often that a book comes along that I want to underline just about every sentence....or at least snag them for my quote collection. Susan Hill's book is such a one. Howards End Is on the Landing
is Hill's journey through her books. One autumn afternoon she is in search of a certain book, but her collection is strewn throughout her house in various rooms, on sundry bookshelves. There is no definite order. Certain books have congregated together--but the logic sometimes escapes her. And as she searches she discovers old friends fondly remembered and strangers that she has never read or even forgotten she ever bought. This discovery sparks a decision to spend a year reading only books from her shelves, sending her on a journey to get to know her own collection again.
Her journey takes her from Shakespeare to Dickens, from W. H. Auden to Roald Dahl, and from Virginia Woolf to Iris Murdoch. Along the way, she shares conversations with authors she has known, visits to libraries she has loved, and the books she has devoured through a lifetime of reading. She gives us comments on the writers, insights into reading, and a window into what informed her own writing. This is a marvelous book for those who love reading. It is part memoir and part review and is very conversational in tone. And I find myself in total agreement with her on the subject of books--no electronic reader can ever give the satisfaction of holding a book in your hand or walking into a room completely shelved in books, whether that be a personal or public library or a bookstore. There is something special about the presence of books that a glowing screen cannot match. Borrowed from the library, but destined to be owned as soon as possible.
January 4, 2014
I have heard this book got mixed reviews, not from me. I loved it. I related to almost every word Susan wrote and found myself pausing to look up books on ŷ as I went along. This is the sort of book about books that is like having a conversation over a cup of tea. Susan talks and I say, "Yes, exactly."
March 9, 2011
A book about books & the love of reading. More specifically, the author's love of reading & her eclectic collection of books. Written in a conversational style, it's a book to curl up with. I have just finished reading it this gray morning with my soft furry dog on my lap. Warning! This book will cause you to expand your reading list!
May 26, 2015
A whole lot of no. I thought I'd get insight and a real love of books that would just radiate off of the page. Instead, all we get is an author who talks about who she knew, knows and how important she is. Sigh. I don't need to waste anymore time reading such self-important drivel. If I want that, I'll just go to the Kardashins' twitter feeds.
February 5, 2017
Susan Hill invites the reader to join her on a journey of exploration, back through the pages of memory, meetings and much much more and she rediscovers the books she has squirrelled away in her home. And what a glorious jumble they prove to be. For Hill has not arranged or catalogued her books all in one room or in any particular order. They crowd on scattered shelves like people who turn up for a train. Some on busy stations jostling each other hoping for a seat, some waiting in more out of the way places, hoping the train will come along. In many ways it seems for Hill her books are almost human, closer than thought, deeper than friendship someone you can ALWAYS turn to. "Read Me, Read Me, " is their cry.
Perhaps I am romancing the image more than is strictly true. I am after all a bibliophile myself, a hoarder of books, someone who really cannot be truly happy without a book about me somewhere.
So this book is a veritable treasure trove for bibliophiles, who will find echoes of their own journeys and thoughts on so many pages, who will be saying "yes" "how true" " amazing" and so on on every other page. True bibliophiles will relish and the anecdotes of Hill's meeting with the eccentric Dame Edith Sitwell and of her encounter with Arnold Wesker knowing how important such moments are.
But the book is so much more than a trip down memory lane and a description of what books stand by other books on Hill's shelves. As Hill takes us deeper into her collection and her thoughts alight in this place and that place, the reader finds themselves wanting to go there too. "why haven't I read Daniel Deronda? Maybe I will try Trolloppe.... Oh you admire Anita Brookner? I've never read a single book of hers, perhaps.... " and so on in a delightful twisty turny dance of delight.
For me a real highlight of the book was Hill's sharing of her all too brief friendship with Benjamin Britten. A love of books and music often go hand in hand. Hill discovered Britten through the Sea Interludes, heard as a teenager, she can scarcely have imagined then that one day this quiet and distant admiration would blossom into a true friendship and meeting of minds.
Reading "Howard's End is on the Landing " has inspired me to revisit authors I have known and loved, and try out some I have largely ignored or deemed too challenging. It has renewed my spirit with ideas and images ... "Look here"... "See this."... "How about that? " whispers Hill as she moves rapidly on. But mostly it has encouraged me to value again and reconsider my own reading journey ..... In reading we allow ourselves to be touched by the wisdom and insight of thousands who have gone before. It's is important to pause and notice their influence, their words, their wisdom. It seems to me that we can be like water skiers skating rapidly over a sea of books or we can dive deep down into that sea, taking in the wonders slowly exploring the depths, allowing them to change us from within.
Perhaps I am romancing the image more than is strictly true. I am after all a bibliophile myself, a hoarder of books, someone who really cannot be truly happy without a book about me somewhere.
So this book is a veritable treasure trove for bibliophiles, who will find echoes of their own journeys and thoughts on so many pages, who will be saying "yes" "how true" " amazing" and so on on every other page. True bibliophiles will relish and the anecdotes of Hill's meeting with the eccentric Dame Edith Sitwell and of her encounter with Arnold Wesker knowing how important such moments are.
But the book is so much more than a trip down memory lane and a description of what books stand by other books on Hill's shelves. As Hill takes us deeper into her collection and her thoughts alight in this place and that place, the reader finds themselves wanting to go there too. "why haven't I read Daniel Deronda? Maybe I will try Trolloppe.... Oh you admire Anita Brookner? I've never read a single book of hers, perhaps.... " and so on in a delightful twisty turny dance of delight.
For me a real highlight of the book was Hill's sharing of her all too brief friendship with Benjamin Britten. A love of books and music often go hand in hand. Hill discovered Britten through the Sea Interludes, heard as a teenager, she can scarcely have imagined then that one day this quiet and distant admiration would blossom into a true friendship and meeting of minds.
Reading "Howard's End is on the Landing " has inspired me to revisit authors I have known and loved, and try out some I have largely ignored or deemed too challenging. It has renewed my spirit with ideas and images ... "Look here"... "See this."... "How about that? " whispers Hill as she moves rapidly on. But mostly it has encouraged me to value again and reconsider my own reading journey ..... In reading we allow ourselves to be touched by the wisdom and insight of thousands who have gone before. It's is important to pause and notice their influence, their words, their wisdom. It seems to me that we can be like water skiers skating rapidly over a sea of books or we can dive deep down into that sea, taking in the wonders slowly exploring the depths, allowing them to change us from within.
May 28, 2016
Lately it seems that putting a book on my "Currently Reading"list is the kiss of death.
I haven't actually finished this, and I don't think I will. I put it down 2 weeks ago and can't be bothered to pick it up again. So sad that the author is all about how many, many famous authors are her besties (to hear her tell it). Even a chance encounter on a doorstep is told as if the eldery literary lion bloomed into happiness because he met her; or preferred chatting to an unknown college student to talking with his peers, at a bash thrown for him, not her. Even her talk of how she organises (or not) her books seems to be a way to brag about her big old three-story "cottage" with enough space for alllll those books she owns.
A published writer who speaks of going somewhere "by foot" instead of "on foot" does not win my heart. When she talks about the books themselves, she can be interesting, but there's far too little about the books and far too much about how every famous author in London is her pal and adores her. Well, I've heard of (and read) many of the authors she mentions; never heard of her before this.
"Jesus I know, and Paul I know--but who art thou?"
I haven't actually finished this, and I don't think I will. I put it down 2 weeks ago and can't be bothered to pick it up again. So sad that the author is all about how many, many famous authors are her besties (to hear her tell it). Even a chance encounter on a doorstep is told as if the eldery literary lion bloomed into happiness because he met her; or preferred chatting to an unknown college student to talking with his peers, at a bash thrown for him, not her. Even her talk of how she organises (or not) her books seems to be a way to brag about her big old three-story "cottage" with enough space for alllll those books she owns.
A published writer who speaks of going somewhere "by foot" instead of "on foot" does not win my heart. When she talks about the books themselves, she can be interesting, but there's far too little about the books and far too much about how every famous author in London is her pal and adores her. Well, I've heard of (and read) many of the authors she mentions; never heard of her before this.
"Jesus I know, and Paul I know--but who art thou?"
January 4, 2015
I really enjoyed this book for a number of reasons. First of all the dust cover is stunningly beautiful.
Secondly it is written in short chapters which made it perfect for those quick dip-in readings, like when you are waiting in a car, or for your cookies to bake in the oven.
And it made me want to read and most importanly to re-read a lot of books I already own.
Some people here mentioned that Hill seems to name-drop a lot, that she seems full of her self for knowing all those famous people. I never got that impression at all. It would surely be odd of her to not mention her meetings with authors when she is writing a personal account on how much she loved their books.
Oh and it also made me want to be in London in the 50:ies and 60:ies.
Secondly it is written in short chapters which made it perfect for those quick dip-in readings, like when you are waiting in a car, or for your cookies to bake in the oven.
And it made me want to read and most importanly to re-read a lot of books I already own.
Some people here mentioned that Hill seems to name-drop a lot, that she seems full of her self for knowing all those famous people. I never got that impression at all. It would surely be odd of her to not mention her meetings with authors when she is writing a personal account on how much she loved their books.
Oh and it also made me want to be in London in the 50:ies and 60:ies.
March 12, 2019
A lovely book with many interesting anecdotes and observations on books, told in easily-digestible vignettes. It will be a keeper for me, a nice reference for recommendations. Ms. Hill speaks directly to the reader with warmth and confides her passion interest in all things literary.
January 23, 2018
Unlike author Susan Hill I don't live in an old rambling farmhouse with aged beams and cosy nooks from which I can look upon "gently rising hills and graceful trees". Nor sadly do I have an elmwood staircase that could take me up to a landing with overflowing bookcases.But I do know the sensation of coming face to face with a mountain of unread books.
Climbing the stairs one day in search of a book she knew was there, Hill discovers "at least a dozen, perhaps two dozen, perhaps two hundred" that she had never read. Among them are recommendations from the Richard and Judy book club, Booker prize winners, classics, childhood annuals (charmingly she still getsThe Beanoevery year) and an old alphabet book. She resolves to spend a year reading only those books already on her shelves, forgoing the purchase of new ones, which, she admits, is a strange decision for someone who is both author and publisher.
I wanted to repossess my books, to explore what I had accumulated over a lifetime of reading and to map this house of many volumes. There are enough here to divert, instruct, entertain, amaze, amuse, edify, improve, enrich me for far longer than a year and every one of them deserves to be taken down and dusted off, opened and read.
And so begins a very personal journey through her bookshelves and her past. Hill selects the books to read seemingly at random but as she does, she recollects what some of those books have meant to her; key moments in her life and the many people she encountered along the way.
We get some delightful and often surprising titbits: about the time when as an English student at King's College London, she devoured detective stories as light relief fromBeowulf(one can understand why!). Or the unexpected encounter with EM Forster in the London Library. Having bent down to pick up the book an elderly man had dropped on his foot she looks up to find herself looking into the watery eyes of one of the grandest of the grand old men of literature. But here he was "slightly stooping and wholly unmemorable." and yet "the wonder of the encounter has never faded."
I warmed to her after reading the chapter where she recollects the magic of receiving the gift of books as a child. It was impossible to disagree with her that today, with such easy access to books, we have forgotten how special they were in our past. For Hill growing up in the 1940s they were rare treats. Every Christmas brought annuals that she read so often she could memorise the stories but the most precious gift she remembers is her first pop up book. Some of these she still has and one of the pleasures of her year of reading from her bookshelves is going through the collection.
Over the year, Hill draws up a list of 40 titles that she thinks she "could manage with alone, for the rest of my life". It's absolutely not a 'best books ever written' type of list but ones she considers has special meaning for her. The list tells you a lot about her taste and her foibles. Trollope gets two places, as does P G Wodehouse; Dickens is there with Our Mutual Friend, Virginia Woolf with To the Lighthouse and E. M Forster (not Howard's End surprisingly but A Passage to India).
The list is significant for its omissions. There is little in the way of European authors unless you count Dostoevsky as 'European' - no Zola or Camus however. The Americans are represented by Edith Wharton (the House of Mirth) and Henry James (Washington Square). Her rationale for the poetry choices tell you that she is in essence a conservative reader."I do not read much poetry now, and rarely anything new," she admits. "I know I should. Should. Ought. But I don't and that's that. Perhaps I don't need to. I can recite the whole of 'The Lady of Shalott', after all."
She is without question a woman of firm opinions. Some I found it hard not to agree with, such as her love of the physical feel of a book (she loathes e-readers) and her aversion to the fashion for reading the "very latest book everyone is talking about." She has little patience with people who pretend to have read certain classics or who boast about the number of books they read each week ("Why has reading turned into a form of speed dating?" she asks). Jane Austen she finds boring but considers Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower to be a masterpiece and Elizabeth Jane Howard's work is long overdue for a re-issue.
The interjections spice up what could easily have become a pleasant but otherwise inconsequential journey through one woman's reading preferences and habits. Hill has an edge that nicely counterbalances the sometimes whimsical tone and in her final selection of 40 has made certain to stir up debate.
Climbing the stairs one day in search of a book she knew was there, Hill discovers "at least a dozen, perhaps two dozen, perhaps two hundred" that she had never read. Among them are recommendations from the Richard and Judy book club, Booker prize winners, classics, childhood annuals (charmingly she still getsThe Beanoevery year) and an old alphabet book. She resolves to spend a year reading only those books already on her shelves, forgoing the purchase of new ones, which, she admits, is a strange decision for someone who is both author and publisher.
I wanted to repossess my books, to explore what I had accumulated over a lifetime of reading and to map this house of many volumes. There are enough here to divert, instruct, entertain, amaze, amuse, edify, improve, enrich me for far longer than a year and every one of them deserves to be taken down and dusted off, opened and read.
And so begins a very personal journey through her bookshelves and her past. Hill selects the books to read seemingly at random but as she does, she recollects what some of those books have meant to her; key moments in her life and the many people she encountered along the way.
We get some delightful and often surprising titbits: about the time when as an English student at King's College London, she devoured detective stories as light relief fromBeowulf(one can understand why!). Or the unexpected encounter with EM Forster in the London Library. Having bent down to pick up the book an elderly man had dropped on his foot she looks up to find herself looking into the watery eyes of one of the grandest of the grand old men of literature. But here he was "slightly stooping and wholly unmemorable." and yet "the wonder of the encounter has never faded."
I warmed to her after reading the chapter where she recollects the magic of receiving the gift of books as a child. It was impossible to disagree with her that today, with such easy access to books, we have forgotten how special they were in our past. For Hill growing up in the 1940s they were rare treats. Every Christmas brought annuals that she read so often she could memorise the stories but the most precious gift she remembers is her first pop up book. Some of these she still has and one of the pleasures of her year of reading from her bookshelves is going through the collection.
Over the year, Hill draws up a list of 40 titles that she thinks she "could manage with alone, for the rest of my life". It's absolutely not a 'best books ever written' type of list but ones she considers has special meaning for her. The list tells you a lot about her taste and her foibles. Trollope gets two places, as does P G Wodehouse; Dickens is there with Our Mutual Friend, Virginia Woolf with To the Lighthouse and E. M Forster (not Howard's End surprisingly but A Passage to India).
The list is significant for its omissions. There is little in the way of European authors unless you count Dostoevsky as 'European' - no Zola or Camus however. The Americans are represented by Edith Wharton (the House of Mirth) and Henry James (Washington Square). Her rationale for the poetry choices tell you that she is in essence a conservative reader."I do not read much poetry now, and rarely anything new," she admits. "I know I should. Should. Ought. But I don't and that's that. Perhaps I don't need to. I can recite the whole of 'The Lady of Shalott', after all."
She is without question a woman of firm opinions. Some I found it hard not to agree with, such as her love of the physical feel of a book (she loathes e-readers) and her aversion to the fashion for reading the "very latest book everyone is talking about." She has little patience with people who pretend to have read certain classics or who boast about the number of books they read each week ("Why has reading turned into a form of speed dating?" she asks). Jane Austen she finds boring but considers Penelope Fitzgerald's The Blue Flower to be a masterpiece and Elizabeth Jane Howard's work is long overdue for a re-issue.
The interjections spice up what could easily have become a pleasant but otherwise inconsequential journey through one woman's reading preferences and habits. Hill has an edge that nicely counterbalances the sometimes whimsical tone and in her final selection of 40 has made certain to stir up debate.
August 7, 2011
Read on kindle
This book is a fairly quick read, and I would think an absolute must for all book lovers and voracious readers. Those of us with a lot of books in pour houses (although I have far fewer than Susan Hill) have those which we have read several times, those we have never read and those which seem to have appeared without us realising. This is a book about how those books of Susan Hill's got there, what they mean, or why they have so far remained ignored. Susan Hill decided to spend a year reading the books she already had in her house, not buying any more - something I know I should do - and could - but probably never will. It is a book which which reminds us of many old favourites, I found myself nodding eagerly in several places as she rhapsodises over books I too have loved. Equally fascinating are her occasional anecdotes of meetings with other writers - some very big names among them: Roald Dahl, Iris Murdoch, Ian Flemming and Edith Sitwell. I was also highly amused by Susan Hill's obvious dislike of what she calls "the wretched e-reader" especially as I was reading her book on one. I chuckled too, over her rant against bookplates. I must say I sort of agree - and yet as a bookcrosser I am for ever sticking labels into books. I was determined not to note down any books to add to my wish-list - my resolve weakened and I did note down four, which I thought fairly restrained. The end of the book is a list of 40 books which if forced to Susan Hill thinks she happily could live with, reading again and again - if she had to live without all the rest. I had read only 16 of the list - although I had read bits of the poetry collections and the bible which were on the list, and seen the shakespeare play she included. I really found this a charming and entertaining read.
This book is a fairly quick read, and I would think an absolute must for all book lovers and voracious readers. Those of us with a lot of books in pour houses (although I have far fewer than Susan Hill) have those which we have read several times, those we have never read and those which seem to have appeared without us realising. This is a book about how those books of Susan Hill's got there, what they mean, or why they have so far remained ignored. Susan Hill decided to spend a year reading the books she already had in her house, not buying any more - something I know I should do - and could - but probably never will. It is a book which which reminds us of many old favourites, I found myself nodding eagerly in several places as she rhapsodises over books I too have loved. Equally fascinating are her occasional anecdotes of meetings with other writers - some very big names among them: Roald Dahl, Iris Murdoch, Ian Flemming and Edith Sitwell. I was also highly amused by Susan Hill's obvious dislike of what she calls "the wretched e-reader" especially as I was reading her book on one. I chuckled too, over her rant against bookplates. I must say I sort of agree - and yet as a bookcrosser I am for ever sticking labels into books. I was determined not to note down any books to add to my wish-list - my resolve weakened and I did note down four, which I thought fairly restrained. The end of the book is a list of 40 books which if forced to Susan Hill thinks she happily could live with, reading again and again - if she had to live without all the rest. I had read only 16 of the list - although I had read bits of the poetry collections and the bible which were on the list, and seen the shakespeare play she included. I really found this a charming and entertaining read.
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