The Angel's Booklist

Many people know the experience, of coming across just the right book at the right time, whether through a gift, a happy accident, or being guided to the right place. This Library Angel, as it is often called, even causes books to open at the most relevant pages.

One of the times in recent memory I experienced the Angel was a couple of years ago in Penzance, when I entered a charity shop I had rarely, if ever, visited. I felt strongly drawn to the back of the shop where most of the books were. Not only that, there was a strong pull to one particular shelf which turned out to be the bargain bin - books even more reduced in price than they already were. It was a 'buy two and get one free' deal. After a bit of rummaging, I found a book by an American crime writer I'd never heard of but looked interesting, particularly as it was located in an area of San Francisco I'd visited. Then there was a more serious book called The Age of American Unreason which looked really interesting. Finally, I picked a book about communications from the spirit world, as I often encountered a gem or two in even the most casual of these kinds of books.

Buying these three books for just a couple of quid turned out to have profound consequences, in quite surprising ways.

At first sight, the channelled book by the psychic didn't seem that special, so I passed it on to my mum in case she found something new in it. She didn't, but then she passed it on to a neighbour who had previously had no real interest in anything out of the norm with spirituality. The book changed all that, not only for her but also for her son who was dealing with a loss at the time. The two of them then returned the book to my mother, having not understood that she didn't need it back, and ordered their own copy from America. The last I heard, the original book my mother had passed on to a totally different person who could make use of it in her spiritual work. The book clearly has a life of its own, and I look forward to any further updates of its adventures.

The Age of American Unreason by Susan Jacoby is listed as one of David Bowie's top 100 books in Bowie's Books by John O'Connell. (Another book from the Angel, courtesy of my sister.) As it turns out, Bowie and I shared a lot in common in reading although more in non-fiction than fiction, and the Jacoby book is one such overlap. It is a powerful tour-de-force, opening with accounts such as when a British atheist and an evolutionist came to speak in New England - that, despite it being a bastion of Christian fundamentalism, the speakers were treated like today's rock stars, with standing room only because people wanted to hear what the speakers had to say. The book is filled with anecdotes like this, comparing it to today when people tend not to want to hear the other side, because... 'I'm right, and you're wrong.' The book is focused on America, but what it outlines is happening everywhere. It was too important to hold onto, so I passed it on to somebody else who was suitably impressed, then it went onto somebody else... I've lost sight of it now, and no longer have a copy, but know it's fulfilling its destiny out there somewhere!

The first book rescued from the bargain bin though was The Cheshire Cat's Eye by Marcia Muller, a fairly modest intro to what was to become a full-blown symphony. It was a well-written page-turner with engaging characters, a keenly drawn San Francisco and a believable central character the PI Sharon McCone. There was enough to like to encourage me to seek out further books about McCone, till it became a full-blown, very agreeable addiction. The descriptions of northern California are extremely evocative, and McCone, as its protector, is our perfect witness. The writer, and hence her chief protagonist, is in love with the land. I see the role of a detective in fiction as very much the ability to bring light into darkness, order to chaos, and there is a subtle but inevitable nod to environmentalism throughout here. The connections McCone has with her Native American heritage is also fitting. In one book Listen to the Silence, she realises everybody she talks to is dissembling, so what she starts doing is listening to the gaps between the words, and what they're not telling her. It is a profound insight into a country that has become little more than noise.

The McCone books are not ones I pass on, but something has happened to make me wonder if there might not be a Library Devil at work too. I thought I had a complete collection, but just this week I needed a particular book Wolf in the Shadows, to find it missing. Looking further, there are several that are not there. I have no explanation. As some compensation, I have recently managed to acquire an early, fairly rare first edition McCone adventure Eye of the Storm imported from America and in excellent condition. It is an unusual story, essentially a locked house mystery, set on an island in a part of California I knew absolutely nothing about. It's a gem. Hopefully its presence will keep me placated until I return to the Mystery of the Missing Books.

The Angel did accompany me to the charity shop, and that particular part of it, a few times more. Sometimes I went without feeling its presence, to no avail - there would be nothing there of interest. One memorable time I was definitely guided, I discovered a beautiful edition of a book that was completely unknown to me from eighteenth century English literature: Hermsprong by Robert Bage. This was tantamount, to my mind, to discovering the missing link between Henry Fielding and Jane Austen. It is such an unusual book, I can understand why people give it a wide berth, but it feels very important, I have told others about it - and now I am telling you. If you are interested in that period of English literature, look it up!

I could fill pages with Tales of the Library Angel, but will restrain myself, only to say I felt its presence only yesterday. Having finished War and Peace for the second time recently, I was keenly feeling the gap, and was about to fill it with some more Russian literature, when I felt drawn to my 'to be read one day' shelf. There was a book by Osho about the mystic Ashtavakra. I opened it randomly and found a passage that spoke directly to me in a way that nothing else could at this particular time:

O heart! Play your stubborn games a little longer.

Embrace the charmed twilight with a smile,

there is still time before night falls.

This was exactly what I needed to encourage me to continue with a chapter in the book I'm writing, and had been stuck on all week. That chapter is called 'Our Favourite Game'.

The Angel had struck again.