Martin Latham

Martin Latham runs Waterstones in Canterbury and has been a bookseller for thirty-five years, making him the longest-serving Waterstones manager. The Bookseller’s Tale is an idiosyncratic memoir which draws upon Latham’s experiences amongst books, authors, book buyers and book lovers.

The blurb describes this book as “part cultural history, part literary love letter and part reluctant memoir”. It is, in fact, a work which is hard to pin down. It contains a lot of historical details on such bookish subjects as itinerant sellers and book pedlars, libraries through the ages, marginalia, female authors and readers and even booklice species. Yet, it does not feel like an academic book, and more like the author’s own whimsical romp through book history. While not exactly an autobiography (we learn much more about Latham the “bookseller” rather than Latham “the man”), the book is enriched with juicy personal anecdotes including the occasional gossipy name-dropping.

What shines throughout the book is a love for reading and – unsurprisingly for a “bookseller’s tale” – a love for physical books, as opposed to electronic books. I am not, personally, a purist in this regard, believing that it is ultimately the content of the book, rather than the medium, is more important. Not that you’d notice that, as I’m still an obsessive buyer of physical books and share the compulsion felt by some of the author’s customers to hug and smell a new book. I loved in particular Latham’s ode to comfort books. His observation that the most critically acclaimed “literary” books are not necessarily the ones that mean most to the general reader is an eye-opening one and a warning against adopting a patronising approach towards literary tastes.

The Bookseller's Tale feels like a night at the pub with your favourite book buddy and is just as enjoyable.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-booksellers-tale-by-martin-latham...… (mer)

Martin Latham runs Waterstones in Canterbury and has been a bookseller for thirty-five years, making him the longest-serving Waterstones manager. The Bookseller’s Tale is an idiosyncratic memoir which draws upon Latham’s experiences amongst books, authors, book buyers and book lovers.

The blurb describes this book as “part cultural history, part literary love letter and part reluctant memoir”. It is, in fact, a work which is hard to pin down. It contains a lot of historical details on such bookish subjects as itinerant sellers and book pedlars, libraries through the ages, marginalia, female authors and readers and even booklice species. Yet, it does not feel like an academic book, and more like the author’s own whimsical romp through book history. While not exactly an autobiography (we learn much more about Latham the “bookseller” rather than Latham “the man”), the book is enriched with juicy personal anecdotes including the occasional gossipy name-dropping.

What shines throughout the book is a love for reading and – unsurprisingly for a “bookseller’s tale” – a love for physical books, as opposed to electronic books. I am not, personally, a purist in this regard, believing that it is ultimately the content of the book, rather than the medium, is more important. Not that you’d notice that, as I’m still an obsessive buyer of physical books and share the compulsion felt by some of the author’s customers to hug and smell a new book. I loved in particular Latham’s ode to comfort books. His observation that the most critically acclaimed “literary” books are not necessarily the ones that mean most to the general reader is an eye-opening one and a warning against adopting a patronising approach towards literary tastes.

The Bookseller's Tale feels like a night at the pub with your favourite book buddy and is just as enjoyable.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2020/09/the-booksellers-tale-by-martin-latham...… (mer)

Confesso di essere rimasto deluso da questo libro. Tra i vari capitoli, l'unico davvero interessante è l'ultimo, dove Latham parla della sua esperienza: anche quello sui cercatori di libri è carino, la seconda parte è passabile, ma la prima parte è davvero noiosa, e la traduzione di Elena Cantoni e Carlo Capararo non mi pare abbia fatto molto per ravvivarlo. È un peccato, perché l'idea non era affatto male; ma molte delle storie mi sono sembrate un affastellamento di nomi e date senza un quadro di insieme.… (mer)