THE ART OF BOOKS Mrs M on a love of literature

The art of

READING

Passionate about quintessential English customs, our incognito columnist reminds us to do the best things in life in the most elegant fashion, always with a twinkle in her eye

BELOW Books are beautiful objects in their own right and I have long admired a trick of interior designers, which is to remove their jackets and file them by colour to create a pleasing display on a bookshelf. O ne of the most important things when creating a home is to carve out space just for oneself. Mr M and I are in complete agreement that we both need areas of the house we can call our own. I would not dream of entering his study uninvited. Even when he has calls for my presence, I enter with trepidation – and not just because I find the taxidermy a little intimidating. It simply feels a little wrong to be in his inner sanctum. The place where he does… well, whatever it is he does.

Mr M’s study in our new home is a smaller replica of the one he had at Minerva Towers. The same toffee wrappers littering the desk, the same fly-fishing books littering the floor, and the same damp spaniel smell. It’s how he wanted it.

This time round, I wanted my space to be rather different to how it was at the old place. Instead of a study, I wanted a reading room. Somewhere I could retreat from the world and indulge my love of literature. I wanted it to be unashamedly feminine, with gorgeous Cabbages & Roses curtains and cushions, a comfy chair and a Victorian fainting couch. The last of these is for the aesthetic rather than need, although living with Mr M can often bring about an attack of the vapours. I wanted very much to have floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, complete with a ladder that went around the room. It has been a dream of mine since childhood, but had somehow never quite happened. I am thrilled to say it has now. Mr M almost needed the fainting couch himself when he saw the quote from our lovely local carpenter but, as the cushion I bought him for his new study says, ‘happy wife, happy life’, and so he conceded whilst muttering something about needing to sell a Stubbs.

Mr M has an eye for a bargain and is often on the village forum. Only last week he saw a pair of vintage, mid-century Ercol chairs for £30. Apparently they had been in the primary school staff room since new, much like the headmaster, who only recently agreed to retire. This came as something of a relief all round, I hear, as some at the school feared they might have to evict him or launch a coup d’état.

Mr M immediately telephoned the number shown online only to be told a woman was coming to have a look at them. “A look,” he boomed, before trying to gazump his rival by offering double if they agreed to put her off. The school secretary became a little flustered; there has not been this much excitement in the village since a donkey escaped from the school fete and was apprehended two hours later frenziedly munching carrots in the Co-op.

As I write, I do not know the fate of the Ercol chairs and whether they will find a home in Mr M’s study. He is unhappy about this, not least because the advert insisted they were ‘in full working order’, whatever that means for a chair.

Whilst he fumes, I am concentrating on enjoying my new reading room. My love of books has been reignited by my gorgeous shelves. So much so, I have taken on the role of chair of the village book group. I intend to transform it, but sadly due to this wretched (but necessary) lockdown it has been held exclusively over Zoom thus far. When debating the merits of a literary masterpiece, the technology can

be rather limiting. Someone the other day described it as being “like a modern day seance”:

“Are you there, Petunia? Make a sound if you can hear us.”

“Are you alone?”

“Tap once if you’re there…” And so on and so on. Very distracting.

There has also been predictable squabbling about what to read. Until now it has been almost exclusively bodice rippers or historical fiction about women who live in northern mill towns and find themselves compromised. Often this is by dint of actions by the recalcitrant mill owner, who eventually sees the error of his ways and marries the poor girl. Goodness, they are exhausting and I am determined to bring a little more intellectual rigour to the group.

The first book I have suggested is The Hiding Game by Naomi Wood. It is described as an intoxicating story of love and betrayal set in the Bauhaus art school. It has marvellous reviews and, if nothing else, at least it does not take place somewhere north of Sheffield.

I suppose one thing we have learned whilst we have all been staying in our houses is quite how transporting books can be. It was miserable not being able to go on holiday, but I have vicariously visited so many different countries on the page.

I mused to Mr M that now I have a reading room, complete with a small desk in the corner, I might perhaps turn my hand to writing a book myself. I suggested I could write about our lives. He went a little pale before mumbling something about no one being the slightest bit interested in us.

Nevertheless, I have ordered three new ribbons for the typewriter just in case… n

ABOVE As well as providing a focal point to a desk, a vintage typewriter can be used when there is more to write than a card and an email would feel impersonal.

P111 © STUDIOVIN/SHUTTERSTOCK P112 © LEDOKOLUA/SHUTTERSTOCK PHOTOGRAPHS

A SPACE OF ONE’S OWN

Mrs M shares some of her favourite new discoveries to assist in creating the perfect reading room or study

MORE DASH THAN CASH When creating a space of one’s own, it is rather lovely to choose unique pieces that cannot be found anywhere else. That is why I was thrilled to discover Wondering People (wonderingpeople.com), a new website offering a fantastic selection of art and pieces for the home by emerging artists and makers. Ranging from original and editioned paintings, drawings, photographs and ceramics to jewellery and textiles. Mr M would approve as prices start at just £20 for a beautiful handmade mug. The website provides an exciting opportunity for people to build their art collections and to support emerging artists in the early stages of their careers, something that is particularly important at a time when so many galleries and shops are closed. Wondering People – set up by Sophie Merrell and Isabella Rothman – has such an array of delightful things I find myself scrolling for ages.

CHIC REPOSE Having inherited most of my furniture up until now, I was like a child in a sweet shop when I had to actually buy new pieces. It is rather a daunting task I learned, but my lovely local antique dealer was a huge help. One thing I wanted to buy brand new was a squishy chair to sink right into, and after much research decided Maker & Sons was the company to go to. The deliciously named Love Seat proved the perfect choice. With a range of loose covers in heavenly colours (I went for a soft pink) and such cloud-like squishiness, this is a chair nobody will not want to get up from (see above). It can be ordered from makerandson.com and is priced from £3,495.

STYLE BIBLE As well as immersing myself in huge swathes of fiction, I have also been hoarding interiors books. My excuse, of course, is that I am doing up my house. One of my most favourites (which was also featured in the October 2020 issue of The English Home) is At Home in the English Countryside: Designers and their Dogs by Susanna Salk. It is hard to know if it is the casually aristocratic or glamorously bohemian houses or the utterly adorable dogs that are the biggest draw. Published by Rizzoli, it costs £40.