Yah Boo sucks to the walking group Part II of III

As luck would have it near where we parked the car in the centre of Lyndhurst was a book fair taking place in the community hall. We were determined to enjoy our day. This was going to be in spite of our earlier rejection from the group walk and here, just a few steps from the car, was the start of the path to that enjoyment.

Inside the hall were several tables and sets of shelves groaning under the weight of the books available for sale. No Mills and Boons, large cooking books. Or, copies of the complete works of Dickens in a neat rows bound deliberately as if they had been discovered in an oak paneled library in a stately home.

It was much much better than that. It was a real book fair where vintage books on almost any subject were for sale. Some very expensive editions. The highest price tag we saw was £250. Or, others for £1, £2 or £3 each. Some stalls even had boxes of books for £5. A sort of bibliophile lucky dip or Forrest Gump's box of chocolates.

Hidden along the shelves, on the table tops and in the boxes we both knew were books for us that were crying out to be bought and taken to their next forever home; ours. Our mission was to find them and take them home.

The first book I purchased was a second edition published in July 1918 following the first edition in May of "Muirhead's London and its environs" for £3. It must have been very popular to have gone into a second print run so soon. Five hundred and one pages of text, maps and illustrations printed on flimsy pages. All bound in a hardcover about the size of a modern day paperback. This was definitely designed to be carried around in a pocket while exploring London.

This book is 104 years old and was first published when there was still six months of World War I for the whole of Europe to get through. In the preface the publishers apologise "for its shortcomings" whatever they felt they were. In a level of understatement so typical of the British from that era they then mention how "London has naturally been much affected by the War...on the whole these changes are more fundamental than organic".

On one of the early pages before the title page is a signature which with my best interpretation looks like "James Fox" but I cannot quite be certain about this. Whenever I see something like this I wonder. In this case was this owner of the book someone in London with a few spare days before being shipped off to the trenches? Or, was he someone who was based in London recovering from injuries at the front?

How little those publishers in Bloomsbury Square could have foreseen the huge social, economic and political changes that were going to sweep through the country in the wake of the Great War. The emancipation of women, formation of socialist movements and an upheaval in the labour markets caused by the huge loss of manpower in the trenches of Europe.

Not so much of a treasure was "The Flower of all Cities - the history of London from the earliest times to the great fire" published in 2019. Nicely illustrated, clearly printed on good paper with an extensive index. Being only two years old it hasn't had time to acquire the dignity of age and the patina of a long life of being handled. Still, it is a useful addition to the collection we have on London and no doubt will be referred to at some stage.

In the bargain £1 box was a 1963 edition of a collection of Charles Lamb's essays. My wife saw me pick it up and I only just heard her say "Put it back...we have enough books at home". My reaction was to feign deafness. There are twenty seven of the great essayist's works covering subjects from the death of Samuel Coleridge through to how the Chinese were the first civilization ever to roast a pig and enjoy not only the meat but the crackling as well. I rather think this essay is a bit of a spoof as I am fairly certain that our species learnt to cook meat well before the Chinese did three thousand years ago.

In one set of shelves on this stand were first editions of "The Saint" which were written by Leslie Charteris between 1928 and 1963. Those stories then became the basis for the TV series starring Roger Moore. Somehow I don't think the author, when he wrote the books creating the character of Simon Templar, envisaged such a debonair portrayal of him or that he drove a Volvo 1800. So much more discrete and understated than Bond's Aston Martin DB5. These first editions were priced at £50.

I asked the man if he had read everything he had for sale including "Casino Royal" by Ian Fleming and The Saint books. "Yes" he had. We then had a chat about different books and I found out he is a local vicar by vocation. By profession he, Steve Morris, was a full time journalist but now is only part time having his work published in The Spectator quite regularly. We paid for our books and as we gave him the money he said "Thank you and God bless you". That is the first time either of us have ever been "blessed" for buying books of any sort.

Heather picked up "Lost Dog - A Love Story" by Kate Spicer about the relationship between the author and a lurcher she adopted at a period in her life when she was leaving the rails of normality. Apparently each of the first three pages felt as heavy as the tomb lid in an Egyptian pyramid. It has been recycled into the local community book bank.

So, once again "Yah boo sucks to the walking group". Without their discriminatory rejection we wouldn't have had the enriching experience of the book fair and meeting such interesting people. And, we wouldn't have been blessed either.

"Yah boo sucks to the walking group" to be continued in the third and final part with a happy ending.