Books

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These days literature festivals abound with so many towns hosting, plus, of course, the bookshop tours and talks by authors when their new books are launched. It's many years since I went to such an event but last weekend I certainly made up for it.

The Youngest was visiting, so we took the opportunity to spend Saturday afternoon in Durham City where its annual Book Festival was underway. A cold wind was blowing through the city centre, so after a bracing walk across the market square we were glad of our pre-booked tickets and shelter in the Gala Theatre.

The next morning I dropped her at the station for a train back to London and work, whilst I proceeded to meet up with a friend to travel to Harrogate for another book event in the comfort of its Convention Centre, although, to be fair, without the chilly wind the town felt almost spring-like.

All events had a similar format with a host posing questions from the comfort of an armchair and the author perched on the sofa's edge, the harsh stage backdrop softened by a standing lamp and books displayed on shelves. What could, theoretically, have been stuffy affairs were entertaining, enlightening and stimulating with substantial parts of every session given over to questions from the audience. 

The star of the weekend, however, was the innocent British Sign Language interpreter in Harrogate as he visibly blushed at the content that gushed without censor from Miriam Margoyles. Poor soul, a real set up there as, asking for a show of hands from anyone hard of hearing in the audience, not a single person responded.

It would appear I have found yet another pursuit in retirement and I'm sure with a little organisation and advance planning some of the better known literary gatherings could find space on my calendar. In the meantime and in readiness I have been out today to purchase The Weight of Angels, the latest novel by John Boyne which he'll be speaking about at Whitby Lit Fest next month.


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