It started with an email from Oliver.
We had been discussing those private lending libraries and Oliver argued that despite the cheapness of paper books in the 1950s it was for many still more economical to borrow from the local newsagent.
“Pan Books were 2/- and Great Pan the princely sum of 2/6...... so for the cost of one book you could borrow half a dozen or even more from the local newsagents and that was in paperbacks post war. I guess when Penguin first came out in the 30s a similar ratio applied.”
And this brought back memories of my own Pan Books. By the early 1960s the cost had risen slightly but still within the range of my pocket money. Pan in particular was a favourite because they published the James Bond novels, one of which saw me across Europe on a school journey.
Apparently many of these Ian Fleming books are now collectable but sadly all mines were lost a long time ago, although I did come across some on our bookshelves by the historian and journalist Leonard Cottrell who wrote with a directness which even now I find a pleasure to read.
Sitting here in the dining room I have in front of me his book on the Roman invasion of Britain.* They say the best writing comes from an author’s own experience and in describing the moment before the legionaries landed he reflected that
“Among the readers of this book may be some who have known what it is like to wade on to an enemy beach under heavy fire. Others may have commanded troops in such action, and experienced that nerve racking moment when all hangs in the balance, when the defenders have the advantage or protected positions, and the attackers have not had time to establish their fighting formations.”
From this he quoted Julius Caesar’s account of the military expedition to Britain in 55 BC observing that it “could almost describe an attack on the Normandy beaches or a Japanese island in the Pacific.”
Now Cottrell had himself been a war correspondent and this book was written only 13 years after the end of the last world war and must have had a real resonance with many of his readers.
It is a book I doubt I will ever get rid of, but the same cannot be said for many of the other paperback novels I have bought. Most have gone to friends or the local Oxfam shop. I like the idea of sharing a good read.
And this I suppose was the motivation behind one of my English teachers back in the mid ’60s. His simple approach to teaching working class boys from south east London was to collect a wide range of paperbacks and leave them on the bookshelves at the back of the classroom for us to dip into.
Later I would come and enjoy the great classics of English literature, but on the basis that we all have to start somewhere, pulp Westerns and Science Fiction was a sound introduction from which some of us at least went on to H G Wells, John Wyndham and along the way I read Exodus by Leon Uris, as well as stuff I instantly forgot.
Handling second hand books is all about giving them a chance which is why I was attracted to Bryan the Book’s shop on Beech Road. Three or four times a week I would fall in through the door, browse for what seemed an eternity and come away with a treasure or just a cheap read.
It was here that I rediscovered my love of the old Eagle Annuals, and began seriously collecting copies from the Left Book Club, Penguin Specials and old children’s books. But more about all these at another time.
Bryan sat at the back of the shop, was content that you stay as long as you wanted and was always prepared to barter. Like many I missed the shop when he finally decided to move on to other things. There are other second hand book shops but somehow they are not the same.
*The Great Invasion, Leonard Cottrell, Pan Books, 1958, reprinted in 1961 and sold for 3’6
Pictures; cover of the Great Invasion from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and the final day of Bryan’s Bookshop from the collection of Lawrence Beedle
We had been discussing those private lending libraries and Oliver argued that despite the cheapness of paper books in the 1950s it was for many still more economical to borrow from the local newsagent.
“Pan Books were 2/- and Great Pan the princely sum of 2/6...... so for the cost of one book you could borrow half a dozen or even more from the local newsagents and that was in paperbacks post war. I guess when Penguin first came out in the 30s a similar ratio applied.”
And this brought back memories of my own Pan Books. By the early 1960s the cost had risen slightly but still within the range of my pocket money. Pan in particular was a favourite because they published the James Bond novels, one of which saw me across Europe on a school journey.
Apparently many of these Ian Fleming books are now collectable but sadly all mines were lost a long time ago, although I did come across some on our bookshelves by the historian and journalist Leonard Cottrell who wrote with a directness which even now I find a pleasure to read.
Sitting here in the dining room I have in front of me his book on the Roman invasion of Britain.* They say the best writing comes from an author’s own experience and in describing the moment before the legionaries landed he reflected that
“Among the readers of this book may be some who have known what it is like to wade on to an enemy beach under heavy fire. Others may have commanded troops in such action, and experienced that nerve racking moment when all hangs in the balance, when the defenders have the advantage or protected positions, and the attackers have not had time to establish their fighting formations.”
From this he quoted Julius Caesar’s account of the military expedition to Britain in 55 BC observing that it “could almost describe an attack on the Normandy beaches or a Japanese island in the Pacific.”
Now Cottrell had himself been a war correspondent and this book was written only 13 years after the end of the last world war and must have had a real resonance with many of his readers.
It is a book I doubt I will ever get rid of, but the same cannot be said for many of the other paperback novels I have bought. Most have gone to friends or the local Oxfam shop. I like the idea of sharing a good read.
And this I suppose was the motivation behind one of my English teachers back in the mid ’60s. His simple approach to teaching working class boys from south east London was to collect a wide range of paperbacks and leave them on the bookshelves at the back of the classroom for us to dip into.
Later I would come and enjoy the great classics of English literature, but on the basis that we all have to start somewhere, pulp Westerns and Science Fiction was a sound introduction from which some of us at least went on to H G Wells, John Wyndham and along the way I read Exodus by Leon Uris, as well as stuff I instantly forgot.
Handling second hand books is all about giving them a chance which is why I was attracted to Bryan the Book’s shop on Beech Road. Three or four times a week I would fall in through the door, browse for what seemed an eternity and come away with a treasure or just a cheap read.
It was here that I rediscovered my love of the old Eagle Annuals, and began seriously collecting copies from the Left Book Club, Penguin Specials and old children’s books. But more about all these at another time.
Bryan sat at the back of the shop, was content that you stay as long as you wanted and was always prepared to barter. Like many I missed the shop when he finally decided to move on to other things. There are other second hand book shops but somehow they are not the same.
*The Great Invasion, Leonard Cottrell, Pan Books, 1958, reprinted in 1961 and sold for 3’6
Pictures; cover of the Great Invasion from the collection of Andrew Simpson, and the final day of Bryan’s Bookshop from the collection of Lawrence Beedle
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