A bookish day.

Today I went to the British Library, which I somehow missed on my other trips here. I'm glad I finally went -- the place is astounding, and I loved it on sight -- even before I got a look at the goods. There's an exhibition gallery there that contains the bulk of what people might be interested in -- codex bibles, the Magna Carta (!), maps, and works of literature important to the Empire. So, there was a splendid Alice in Wonderland exhibit (did you ever notice that people who love Alice in Wonderland are always more interesting than people who don't? Not to be a jerk-o about it...). There were several different volumes and issues of the work, including the author's original notebook with his little bits of illustration here and there. And some of the costume designs from the new movie coming out. Pretty lovely.

But the big thing for me was the little case of literature. I like Shakespeare, and think he's a cool dude and all, so was delighted to see some of the first printings pertaining to his plays and the presses of the plays themselves. But the big thing to me was getting to see Jane Austen's things. Her family apparently came across her writing desk in their attic (or something like that) some years ago, and donated it to the library. There was a bit of her original juvenilia. And it was lovely. Lovely to look upon. There was Bronte's notebook of Jane Eyre, and lots of other treasures from the greats. (It was weird how jolting it was to read the words "Reader, I married him" -- I had forgotten that line, but always liked it for its tone, and it came back to me the second I saw it -- a weird side by side moment in my brain.) Being there made me remember how it used to feel back in my innocent undergrad days -- a greenhorn walking around with her Norton anthologies, and just having my mind blown by all there was. Sometimes I wish I could get that back -- that fresh experience of loving the work so much, and all of the fresh surprises that came with it.

I went to Persephone Books today, on the advice of a very wise friend (you know who you are, Friend) and it was the kind of place you could stay all day, for ages and ages, despite how small it is. They do big work, and that's the major point: http://www.persephonebooks.co.uk

And drank a lot of beer. And had a sausage roll. And a delightful (but delightful) ham and cheese pasty. This city strikes me with its sheer size. This place is enormous. And sprawling, and just sort of wild with people. I'm having fun, but looking forward to the country, when we eventually go. I believe we'll go to Chawton (Jane Austen's cottage on her brother's estate) and then of course, I'll get over to Wales to see Jonathan P. I've not been doing well with time -- it's so strange not to always be checking your cell phone (not even your watch!) for the time. And I keep saying it's Wednesday, which it definitely isn't. Can't keep it straight -- who's Alice now?

Tomorrow, the big food market. And there's been talk of a dish that involves steamed potatoes and cheddar. Count me in, Daddy-o.