summertime reading

The arrival of warmer weather, like the fall of the first snowflakes, holds the potential to fill bibliophiles with frenzied trepidations beyond the comprehension of those poor souls for whom a book is just a book, and all because of something that may appear innocuous to the uninitiated: compiling a seasonally appropriate reading list.

Some may question the necessity of torturing oneself with drawing up such a list. A number of book lovers squirrel away novels specifically intended for their annual holiday; others prefer spontaneity and grab whatever tickles their fancy. Reasons abound: a bad memory, the pleasure of ticking items off one by one, a personally designed curriculum.

But is there anything different about this season that genuinely warrants a "summer reading list"? I believe so. The summer reading list is a far more complicated beast than its wintry counterpart. While the latter usually evokes long cosy hours spent on a couch with a pot of tea, with or without attendant feline, and is therefore appropriate for dense tomes with intricate plots into which one will gladly delve in an attempt to forget all about the harsh weather that prevails out of doors (allow me to name by way of example Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco, very much a wrapped-in-a-warm-blanket-by-lamplight novel), the former must take into account a variety of locations and atmospheric conditions (much depends on whether reading will take place reclining on the beach, lounging in the shade, or indeed sitting indoors should the weather turn inclement), potential distracting factors (there is all the difference in the world between a long, engrossing novel and a collection of short stories or correspondence that can be put down, then picked up at a moment's notice), and size and weight restrictions for avid readers who have the good fortune to travel.

It would be simplistic to state that the reclusive, hushed nature of winter is better suited to classics and conducive to poetry while summer calls for more recent literary works, though this may serve as a rule of thumb when in doubt as to which strategy to adopt

Depending upon your temperament, you might prefer the comfort of revisiting old favourites to the discovery of an unfamiliar author. For my part, I generally reserve well-known works for the colder months, though this was not always the case. In the golden days of my youth, I spent many happy consecutive summers in the company of Sherlock Holmes and his faithful Watson, thereby consolidating my love for the English language. My one and only piece of advice in drawing up your own list would be to select relatively light — though not frivolous — reading materials, for if happening upon words of wisdom you want to keep a record of, you may not always have a notebook and pen on hand. Just in case, you may want to stick a few small Post-Its to the inside front cover so that you can mark the relevant pages.

Should you be in need of recommendations...

Short stories: the deliciously creepy collected ghost stories of M. R. James; the great fun, variety and wonderful imaginative touches of Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman

Series: P. D. James' books starring Commander Dalgliesh, plus the two featuring Cordelia Gray; Inspector Rebus' (mis)adventures in Edinburgh and elsewhere by Ian Rankin; the great story of an unlikely friendship, on sea as on land, chronicled by Patrick O'Brian in his Aubrey-Maturin saga; the intriguing plots, witty banter and razor-sharp humour of Dorothy L. Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey series; the equally intellectually stimulating though far less humorous Inspector Morse novels by Colin Dexter

Uplifting reads: I dare you not to weep at the end of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Schaffer & Annie Barrows, and not to fall in love with Willie in Sonia Gensler's The Revenant

Nice big bricks: the journey back in time and through the canvas of The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova; Val McDermid's speculative links between a famous historical event, a tattooed corpse and a long-lost poem in The Grave Tattoo; the intriguing, laudanum-soaked narrative by Wilkie Collins of the origins of Charles Dickens' unfinished serial story in Drood by Dan Simmons

In French: the tale of envy, revenge and love of Jean de Florette and Manon des sources by Marcel Pagnol; the eerily realistic world in the throes of magical disturbances of Éric Gauthier' Montréel; all of Jean-Christophe Grangé's books, which depict extremely violent acts and warped psyches in his very unique style

What will I be reading? It occurred to me that this summer will afford the perfect opportunity to get started on a new series and get acquainted with its cast of characters, hence the presence of Jasper Fforde's Thursday Next novels on my list. I'll also be saving up issues of literary journals such as The Brick and The Paris Review, to which I recently subscribed, and will probably add any copies of the U.K. edition of Vogue I can get my hands on.

P.S. How about a non-book-related piece next? A photo of Rebus, perhaps? Well, I'll give it a try!

(suitably) delighted

I'm tremendously excited to announce that my contribution to Hila's My Favourite Book series has now been posted on her excellent blog, le projet d'amour. My very first guest post, what a thrill! Click here to read it. There was so much more I wanted to say about my selection and its author that it warranted a second, complimentary piece. Should you be interested, you'll find these additional observations below.

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My first encounter with P. D. James occurred via televised adaptations of her novels featuring policeman-poet Adam Dalgliesh. (I once dreamt that I had a grey tabby called Dalgliesh as a companion for Rebus... Two cats named after fictional detectives, what could be better?) Some time later, in our local bookshop's tiny English-language section, I came across Devices and Desires, which in my opinion showcases James at her finest and her writing at its most representative in terms of style, plot and setting. Her love of language and literature is evident in her impeccable prose. I would describe her as a more intellectual Agatha Christie, or perhaps Dorothy L. Sayers without the humour. If you love these authors, I believe dear Phyllis (as I always think of her; how could anyone possibly help but love a writer who uses "shan't" so naturally?) may very well be your cup of tea. Even in her more recent works, she makes few concessions to the omnipresence of technology in our modern world, and that, one feels, rather reluctantly; there's an almost timeless, old-fashioned quality to her books that I find wonderfully restful and comforting — just the thing for a quiet, introspective weekend.

Her latest tome, a pastiche of Jane Austen entitled Death Comes to Pemberley, appeared last year as she turned 91. For even more of her words, I highly recommend her autobiography-of-sorts, Time to be in Earnest, in which she combines diary entries made over the course of a year, from her 77th birthday to the eve of her 78th, with fragments of recollections prompted by events big and small in her bustling life as an internationally famous writer.

Sadly, James only wrote two Cordelia Gray novels: An Unsuitable Job for a Woman came out in 1972, followed 10 years later by The Skull Beneath the Skin. I've often mused on what the future held for Cordelia. Did she grow in confidence? Did her early experiences make her bitter or disillusioned? Did Pryde's Detective Agency ever embrace its unintended specialty, i.e. recovering lost cats?

You may be interested in knowing that a television series called An Unsuitable Job for a Woman was devised a few years ago, starring Helen Baxendale as the young private investigator. However, be warned that only the first episode bears any resemblance to the eponymous novel's plot, albeit in a modernized and much-altered adaptation, while the remaining three instalments are original creations. A small word of advice, if I may: to avoid any disappointments, stick to the books!

While re-reading An Unsuitable Job in preparation for my guest post, my mind kept drawing parallels between Cordelia and Jane Eyre (another favourite heroine of mine), perceiving a common thread that runs through both characters' lives: a little girl, parentless and all but friendless, suffers a difficult, miserable childhood as an outsider; later, she spends a few relatively happy, settled years in an educational institution where her gifts are fostered and valued; as she becomes a young woman, she develops a strong, upright personal moral code and remarkable maturity; hers is a naturally solitary disposition; she must make her way into the world by relying on her own inner resources; she is gifted with a fiercely independent spirit and an acute mind, and her quiet, self-contained dignity impresses all those who come into contact with her; although initially employed in a subservient position, she is soon raised to an equal footing by the man who hired her; placed in moral peril, she emerges battle-scarred yet unbroken. Surely, all of these similarities can't simply be the product of my imagination?

Obviously, the most significant difference lies in their "choice" of employment — although in each case there appears to be very little choice involved. Jane's situation as a governess is most definitely suitable (i.e. socially acceptable) for a woman of her status; indeed, though she calls it "a new servitude", it is the only position she can envisage occupying as she longs to leave Lowood. Soon after Cordelia came to the Agency as a temporary typist, her boss (Bernie Pryde, ex-CID), sensing her investigative abilities, began grooming her as his assistant, then quickly promoted her to full partner, seemingly oblivious to the fact that this was a highly unorthodox state of affairs in the early 70s. The public in general, and potential clients in particular, certainly have no compunction about expressing their disbelief or even downright disapproval of a female poking and prying into other people's affairs... Modern young ladies have such strange notions these days, but one mustn't encourage such things!