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The Guardian
25-06-2025
- General
- The Guardian
I'd lost my childhood love of reading – but rediscovered it when I set aside my iPhone
Everything changes so everything can stay the same. In the beginning I read a lot. I read paperback books. The Famous Five, the Secret Seven and all that stuff. I had – have, actually – all 21 Famous Five books. They're in paperback, apart from the fifth one, Five Go Off in a Caravan, which is in hardback. A present from my nan. Nice. But I preferred paperbacks. I've never seen the point of hardbacks. They're unwieldy, harder to hold in bed, especially under the sheets when I was supposed to be asleep. In my teens I raced through Agatha Christie, Alistair MacLean and the like, and Reader's Digest too, countless editions of which were lined up beside every toilet in the house. Then schooling started interfering with my tastes and I got into Thomas Hardy in a big way, and other big thick, proper paperback novels. After my A-levels I went cycling in France with a mate, which was a miserable experience, saved only by the enjoyment I got from reading Anna Karenina, the battered doorstop edition of which I still have but am fearful of looking at lest it completely falls apart. Then I went to university to study English literature and had the love of reading sucked out of me. Reading, in my book, was for enjoying, not for studying. I didn't enjoy the studying of it, so I inevitably stopped enjoying the reading of it. Those reading years are a dismaying blur. The only writer to survive the cull in my love of literature was Evelyn Waugh. Everything else seemed to be a struggle. I blamed myself for not being clever enough. When I left university, I all but left reading behind too. I came across Raymond Carver, who I found easy to read and loved very much. And Richard Ford, who I found hard to read but still managed to love. Apart from that, the rest of my 20s and, and my 30s, passed by almost fiction-free. But it all came flooding back, oddly, with the advent of the digital age. The Kindle seemed to free me up to wade back into literature until I was out of my depth and swimming freely again. I'm not sure why this is so. I think it might be that physical books had been triggering strong feelings of intellectual inadequacy from back in the day. Who knows? I didn't care. I was loving reading all over again. But as much as the ebook gave me something beautiful back, slowly but surely it took it all away again. I think the problem has been the smartphone rather than the Kindle. Reading ebooks on the Kindle app on the iPhone rather than on the Kindle itself was too convenient an option. But, just as smartphones relentlessly erode our capacity to focus on life itself, slowly but surely my ability to engage with any one thing on them, certainly anything as long as a novel, drained away as briskly as the phone's battery. So the other week I picked out one of the countless old-style Penguin paperbacks on my bookshelf. It was A Good Man in Africa by William Boyd. Then the peculiarly named Doctor Fischer of Geneva or The Bomb Party by Graham Greene. Then Muriel Spark, Margaret Drabble and anyone else I fancied from shelves at home or in charity shops. I'm back to the paperback format of my childhood and my reading life has begun again. These little beauties are barely 25% bigger than my iPhone and, most importantly, you can't swipe in and out of them. Suddenly I can engage with words again. I put the phone away, open the book, and read, actually read. On the tube, snootily regarding the phone-starers, I feel a bit of a clever dick. This will last until I give in to the temptation to revisit the Famous Five. I can't wait. Adrian Chiles is a broadcaster, writer and Guardian columnist
The Hindu
09-06-2025
- General
- The Hindu
Coimbatore's Old Book Market is having a busy season with schools reopening
Hidden in plain sight near the Ukkadam Bus Stand in Coimbatore, beyond the rush of buses and blaring horns, thrives a quiet world. For over 30 years, it has steadily fed curiosity, supported students, and kindled the joy of discovery. This is the Ukkadam Old Book Market, a place where second-hand books tell firsthand stories. Step inside, and you are greeted by uneven stacks overflowing with paperbacks, hardcovers, exam guides, and timeworn dictionaries. Dust motes swirl like confetti in the sunlight. If you listen closely, you will hear the rustle of pages being flipped, the murmur of titles being read aloud, the banter of booksellers greeting regulars. For bookworms, this market is more than a retail space. It is a routine. The market has 31 stalls arranged in a neat space; each one distinctly curated. Some stalls specialise in school and college textbooks; others stock fiction and biographies, among other genres. One may have a stack of books on Thermodynamics next to a box of Enid Blyton's Secret Seven novels. Another might surprise you with a Sidney Sheldon adjacent to class IX Mathematics textbooks. 'Whatever the syllabus, whatever the level, we try to keep something for everyone,' says KM Fazulul Rahiman, a veteran bookseller. June and July mark the busiest time of the year, when the new academic season draws in a steady stream of students and parents. Guides for JEE, NEET, UPSC, TNPSC, and NET fly off the shelves, along with school textbooks and exam manuals. If a particular edition is unavailable, they go a step further by trying to source missing titles from elsewhere. They also help by suggesting different publishers, authors, or books others in the same age group or exam category have found useful, something that reminds one that this place is alive, not automated. While commercial bookstores and digital platforms often dictate reading through bestsellers and algorithms, the old book market does something quietly radical. It listens. If a visitor mentions a book from 10 years ago, chances are someone here will have it, or know who might. The sellers frequently exchange stock, refer customers to one another, and even keep running lists of requested titles. In a sense, this is what sets the Ukkadam Old Book Market apart: its community spirit. 'We work together, not against each other,' says K Mohammed Raja, who has manned his stall for several years. 'That is why the market has survived so long. If a customer walks away happy, even if it's not from my shop, that is a win for all of us.' A sense of generosity fills the market. It is not uncommon to see a student walk in with a tight budget, and leave with a happy heart, having taken a lot of books back home. Most sellers here grew up valuing education and see themselves as playing a small role in someone else's academic journey. The market is also a trove of forgotten gems. Between engineering guides and nursing handbooks, you will find everything from vintage travelogues to pulp thrillers, children's comics to political manifestos. In a world that prizes speed and efficiency, this slow, attentive approach feels almost meditative. Customers are encouraged to browse, to linger, taking them back to old times. There is no pressure to buy, no hovering sales pitch. Time here bends a little differently. Despite challenges, from changing reading habits to the dominance of online marketplaces, the market has held firm. Though sales dipped during the pandemic, Mohammed says, 'We have bounced back. Students and parents are returning.' Regulars know they will get honest pricing, quality stock, and real recommendations. And newcomers are often surprised, not just by what they find, but how they feel while finding it. Most books here are also priced much below maximum retail price. While online bookstores offer convenience, they cannot replicate this level of personal attention, adds Mohammed. The sellers speak from experience, often guiding readers to better editions or newer versions, and warning against duplicate or pirated copies, which have become a common problem in recent years. 'We get people bringing in cheap, poor-quality prints they bought online, with several pages missing, diagrams blurred. We do not entertain that; we believe in giving people books that last,' says Rahiman. There is something special about second-hand books: each one carries the mark of a previous life, a folded page, a scribbled name, a coffee stain. Each morning, as shutters rise and books are dusted off, Ukkadam's Old Book Market resumes its quiet magic. Rows of books, seasoned sellers, and readers ready to listen to the stories tucked between the pages. The Ukkadam Old Book Market is open on all days, 9.30am to 9pm
The Guardian
04-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
World Book Day: top tips for last-minute costumes
Help! It's World Book Day this week, which for parents and carers often means kitting out your child in a costume inspired by their favourite book. Some of you might have been preparing for weeks, but for everyone else, here are some tips for putting together a last-minute costume using items you might well already have at home. In terms of general advice, I would say it's a good idea to look back at Halloween costumes – a skeleton outfit could be perfect for Funnybones, or a Grim Reaper could be re-purposed as a Harry Potter cape. Consider nonfiction books as well as fiction; there's no rule that says your child has to be a well-known children's book character (my own son was an electric eel one year!) and use cardboard and lollipop sticks to make masks that resemble illustrated characters such as Greg from Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Some easy-to-put-together ideas include Tom Gates from Liz Pichon's beloved series: a child could wear their usual clothes but take a pencil and notepad full of comics they've drawn. For the titular character in Roald Dahl's George's Marvellous Medicine, normal clothes will work too - just add props such as a saucepan and a wooden spoon, or a bottle of water coloured blue. Julia Donaldson's The Smeds and the Smoos could also be a relatively simple inspiration: a child simply needs to wear all blue or red – add blue or red face paint if you like. Jenny McCann, owner of Bear Bookshop, Smethwick Getting a nearly six-year-old into a shirt and tie is not something attempted lightly so a plain white top was sacrificed to the felt tip gods for this Peter from the Secret Seven outfit. Make-your-own-badges were invaluable, likewise a dog happy to double as Scamper. It was only later we realised how inadvertently Nazi the whole get-up is. Catherine Shoard A few years back, our school thought it was being helpful by suggesting we 'only' make masks for World Book Day. Cue the usual parental arms race. Child one insisted on the Lorax. But how to create that lustrous yellow facial fuzz? Pipe cleaners, of course – hundreds, looped around a pair of old specs. Did he look like the beloved Dr Seuss critter? Possibly. Could we all claim a gold star for creativity? Absolutely! My other failsafe: a pillowcase. Just about any costume can be fashioned from one of these, with the added bonus that nothing says 'look, I made an effort' like a kid whose arms are awkwardly stuck out of a roughly hewn rectangle. And if all else fails? Dress them in blue and go full Andrex puppy with some loo roll. Ta-da, you have yourself a bona fide Mr Bump! Anna Thomson Sign up to Bookmarks Discover new books and learn more about your favourite authors with our expert reviews, interviews and news stories. Literary delights delivered direct to you after newsletter promotion You could make a simple skirt from old book pages. Make tubes by rolling up each page and thread string through holes in the top of each tube (you could use a hole punch for the holes). Add a few layers and tie them together. Or base a costume on a character that wears clothes your child already has. The main character in I Love Books, an amazing picture book by Mariajo Ilustrajo, for example, wears a white T-shirt, black trousersand orange socks. Georgia Duffy, owner of Imagined Things Bookshop, Harrogate Looking to the past can be terrific for costumes. L Frank Baum's 1900 classic The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is a great inspiration, for example. Got a school summer dress, or fabric with some gingham check? Pair with a basket and dog (real or cuddly, optional), and there's your Dorothy. Meanwhile an upside down funnel and some carefully applied tin foil makes a matching Tin Man. Mr Men books are a great place to look for ideas, too – lots of them can be recreated very easily. A cardboard box, some red paint, and holes for arms makes you Mr Strong, a blue sweatshirt and lots of bandages and you're Mr Bump, while pigtails, a pair of glasses and a book can transform anyone into Little Miss Busy. Jo Zebedee, co-owner of The Secret Bookshelf in Carrickfergus
