The Books in My Bags
I'm getting back into the practice of writing recently. When I'm in a writing phase, I like to read as much as possible, replenishing the words going out with words coming in. To ensure I'm never stuck with a train station newspaper, there's currently a book in every bag I own.
I thought I’d share the books I’ve been rotating, all very small (very demure) so I can easily dip in and out.
In the Kitchen: Essays on Food and Life
A collection of essays focussed on each authors personal histories with food but also the kitchen as a space. A theme that obviously crops up is the act of demonstrating care through making food, but it doesn’t dominate. I enjoy reading about the small intimacies of things like making a cup of tea, but I’m moved more in the essays focussed around the slightly less explored relationships with inanimate objects.
I got mine from Round Table Books in Brixton fyi.
Peanuts Comics by Charles M Schulz
A few months ago, I found a big stack of Peanuts books at a charity shop—the BHF one in Streatham that only sells books and records. The ones I have are really thin, and from a quick Google search, it seems most of them are, except for the 'all-time' compilations. They’re perfectly sized to carry with you, even without a bag. There's not much point in me reviewing a classic comic like Peanuts™; that’s why I’m focusing on the form rather than the content. I will say, though, that I much prefer Lucy in the comics over the cartoons, more funny less mean.
Barrel Fever by David Sedaris
David Sedaris is one of my favourite authors and also one of my favourite thinkers. I like his work so much that rather than reading all of his books, I’ve read most of them but two or three times. I'm saving the three I haven't read yet for big life emergencies. His dry humour is what makes his writing compelling but my favourite thing is that he’s a massive (over?)sharer. He so excellently picks the tales from his life, that combined with his style, you feel like you’re sitting opposite him at dinner whilst he divulges the messiest lore about someone you kind of knew from school. This is my least favourite book by him purely because it isn’t full of these kind of personal stories but features some fiction.
What Artists Wear by Charlie Porter
Being someone who claims to enjoy dressing up but wears the same two dresses every week (they do change in Winter), I sometimes feel like a fake. If I really loved clothes wouldn’t I be wearing more of them? This book very much validates my self imposed uniform by highlighting how common this is amongst creatives. Entirely made up of lovely odes to the role clothing plays for a selection of artists, it’s filled with satisfying imagery that serves as manual on effortless chic. Purely windows in to their worlds and no narrative linking them together so you’re able to flick through at whim. Only note is it’s a little chunky.