When I get home...

[shewhomust]

... I hope I shall be able to visit Walltown before the end of October, to see the Milecastle built of books by artist Dawn Felicia Knox.

This won't be her first piece of work along the wall. Her website has some wonderful photos* of the books which used to make up a piece called 'There Are Gods Beneath Our Feet', now decaying slowly on an allotment in Wallsend.


*Yes, I am aware that 'wonderful photos' does not guarantee that the thing itself is wonderful, but still, wonderful photos! Go look!

Comments

[karinmollberg.livejournal.com]

A backyard ...Biblioleum, built by bibliophiles unable to bury their buddy books, each and every one nothing but ...another book in the wall?

As it happens here, this entry appears immediately above the entry of a friend about how now having a yard, enables one to additionally having a compost pile. As is Wise and just.
In this widest of senses (it is still too early for proper Mollberg Speak wherefore you will have to make do with what looks like one of those text messages that keep people from getting out of one's way but enables them to stumble in front of trams in search for a Darwin Award; I lately saw one mobile-bosomed fountain of self-love pass by down below who almost had herself driven over for being too busy to take out her earplugs or watch out at taking a stickless selfie) ... the natural Q. seems to be;
should one hope there aren't too many, or in fact, for the sake of recycling natural resources, myriads of bibliophagean bookworms?

I only ask as a stern ultracrepidarian, given in not only to epeolatry but also suffering serious bouts of bibliosmia while trying not to fall for another morosoph bibliobibulean myself ... http://www.huffingtonpost.com/oliver-tearle/10-words-every-book-lover-should-know_b_5297284.html

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

I'm sure it is no coincidence that this artist has been working with the Society of Antiquaries, who not long ago (in antiquarian terms) were obliged to move their library...

And while I have been known to rescue books from the city recycling centre (because books!), even I have some books for which this immolation would be a good use.

[karinmollberg.livejournal.com]

I see, I accidentally created an ambiguous figure above; the biblioBIbulean who may for all I know, also know how to walk Streets, who knows?

Speaking of, one of my alltime fav. libraries consisted almost entirely of an ancient monastery Library (beautifully leatherbound, starting with some small 17th century volumes but also containing a complete, illustrated Diderot Encyclopaedia and other now negliGIble lightweight literature for the lady) that the initial owner had bought, literally, off the street; where it was designed to become filling for a road.

Just like many of the books this humble household holds were found on the street, quickly, as seen from the Windows of the last flat when the brocante resided just below while the place St Michel was having its feet done.
Only the other day did I talk to Mata(moros; not his fault or choice as family name;) the dandy antiquarian about our mutual resources... whereby we invariably drifted over to islands in the rain what with the arguable lisibility of Messrs. Joyce et consortes because one youngster came by to inform us of how the later but equally late M. Kerouac ignored commata and other imponderabilities due to overdoing on enthusiasm but I said, there is something to say for Loos' flapper journals but also for M. O'Brien not to even mention Herr Sterne whose words on the general stickiness of things I used to have posted below a selfie made by someone else where I balanced upon a barstool:

Gravity, a mysterious carriage of the body to conceal the defects of the mind that was at least attributed to said gentleman but makes me Wonder, how he knew?

I can't throw away books, not even tatty pockets, they must be given away and never burnt barbariously but I sort of like this wall despite worrying about afterwards, as one does when they come down...

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

If a bibliophage eats books, a bibliobibulean must also drink them, and thus is the balance of things maintained. Nunc est bibendum, didn't it say in someone's fourth book?

O'Galop!

[karinmollberg.livejournal.com]

Which immediately brings us to France and the importance of staying (bibit, bibit, bibit as we sing in taverns) not only a Sterne bibliobibulean (for which word I took early-morning-before-coffee-inaccurate credit, whereas it was in fact coined as it stands, even if wavering lightly, by Hr. Menck himself who after all inspired Loos to write books on male préférences when it comes to female hair colour and here I thought I had created someone unsure of their préférences) but also an unwavering yet swell arbiter de gôut as demonstrated by our mutual hero (well, the internet is all about sharing, isn't it) Death Bredon; displaying his in this bibulous matter of taste http://www.gutenberg.ca/ebooks/sayersdl-treasury/sayersdl-treasury-00-h-dir/sayersdl-treasury-00-h.html#Page_258 because in wine there is truth
http://planetpeschel.com/the-wimsey-annotations/the-short-stories/the-bibulous-business-of-a-matter-of-taste/ and heroism to be had in abundance (if pleasing to the palate), well needed at accidentally meeting with
these that from the outer murk
Of dense mephitic vapours creeping lurk
but as we bibliophiles trust in bibolous Bibendum the Elder because of how it is, after all, a matter of taste Bibendum's shape has changed over the years. O'Galop's logo was based on bicycle tires, wore pince-nez glasses with lanyard, and smoked a cigar all shall be...well: bibliobibuleously ...walled (there must be wine art out there somewhere, it can't be just la façon bordelaise to use old wine caskets as bicycle bags, I'm sure there is more to this but it being early, still...) I think.
Then,
I might well be accused of rampant amphigourism in a future clerihew, I am well aware of this danger yet won't whine.
All of this, to test the old tongue can still do its twisting deeds!