Non-Fiction

Brightening from the East: essays on landscape and memory by Ken Worpole (Little Toller, £16)

Transparency… I’ve been reading Ken Worpole’s writing for decades, published a book of his in 2008 and he is part of the select Five Leaves’ London gang. The first time we met, decades ago, we were on opposite sides of a bitter argument at the Federation of Alternative Booksellers but became friends and comrades. But I would have read this book anyway as it ticks all my boxes… social history, landscape, cityscape, obscure stories about even more obscure organisations and communities, in this case mostly in Essex, often the playground for another interest, London’s East End.

I’d always wished Ken would write an autobiography, but he does, here, include some autobiographical pieces including of his teenage years in Southend where he met Larraine, his wife of sixty years. Larraine was a photographer and some of her work appears here, including the cover image. Sadly Larraine died recently.

Ken’s book ends with a set of essays on people important in his world including John Berger, Roger Deakin, Doreen Massey and Colin Ward. If that list means anything to you, get in.
Read the chapters one cup of coffee at a time or devote the weekend to this book. You won’t regret it.

–Ross

Foreign Fruit: A Personal History of the Orange by Katie Goh (Canongate, £16.99)

I think this is my favourite book of the year, and also one I think deserves so much more attention! I don’t expect many people to have thought – I wish I knew more about oranges! But after reading this, you’ll be telling everyone you know facts about their fascinating history. I swear. It’s not just me! Goh blends memoir with a cultural history of the orange; successfully connecting trade routes, colonial legacies, mythology and her family’s history. I texted the opening line to my best friend, and then didn’t put the book down! Goh’s writing is captivating, vulnerable, and incredibly researched as she weaves the history and journey of the orange with her own Irish Chinese Malaysian heritage. Think: Amitash Ghosh’s Curse of the Nutmeg meets Crying in H-mart by Michelle Zauner.

–Sarah

The Invention of Infinite Growth: How Economists Forgot About the Natural World by Christopher F. Jones (Oneworld, £28)

A meticulous yet readable history of modern economic thought, showing us how the notion of ceaseless expansion (“Growth at all costs”) has become the single and only political imperative.
Jones explains that modern neoclassical economics, particularly in the 20th century, has deliberately erased “Land” as a constraining force on production, enabling a dangerous belief that technological progress and market forces could overcome all planetary limits (hello Elon Musk and his Mars obsession). This has, of course, led to environmental catastrophe and soaring inequality. Why doesn’t anybody other than China really make anything anymore? What are ‘services’? How can banks just ‘create’ money?

A critical, but accessible book, urging a shift away from the “growth fetish” toward new models that prioritize ecological and human well-being.

–Carl

Patchwork: a graphic biography of Jane Austen, by Kate Evans (Verso, £25.00)

Yes, Verso, that serious publisher of heavy political tomes. But anyway… I famously (well, among my workmates at the bookshop) dislike the writing of Jane Austen. But this work is just beautiful and might turn me. Kate Evans tells the story in a patchwork format – Jane knew one end of a needle from the other after all – with lovely illustrations. In the centre there’s a long supplement about the cotton used in patchwork. Ah, that’s where Verso comes in, except it’s not heavy. Do you know the statue of an enslaved woman and a Nottingham textile worker over in the Green Heart? Well think of this supplement as the Jane Austen version.

At the very least, when you are in the shop, browse the book. Kate Evans – by the way – when she came to the shop wore handmade clothes from Jane’s period and gave us a mini-lecture about fashion.

–Ross

Craftland: A Journey Through Britain’s Lost Arts and Vanishing Trades by James Fox, (Vintage, £25)

This intimately researched book charts the landscape of Britain’s (dying) crafts. Fox looks at the fundamental connections between people, land and local skills, ultimately arguing for preservation not purely for whimsical nostalgia, but with environmental consideration and local economic generation. If you love Braiding Sweetgrass, but found you couldn’t connect your own life and practice to the teachings of the book through a removal of geography and shared culture, you should read this. Fox spends time with the skilled craftspeople he is writing about, and is so clearly enthused and awed by their work. Flags on lampposts don’t make me proud to be British, but this book does a lot to argue for a genuine heritage, often informed and sustained through migration and skill sharing.

–Sarah

Is a River Alive? by Robert Macfarlane (Penguin, £25)

This pick is partly for the book itself and partly for what it’s done. As Macfarlane readers will expect, it’s full of vivid descriptions of landscapes and unusual people the author meets while travelling through the world. In particular, it takes us to three rivers, one which has won rights, one which is all but dead, and one which is under threat, while linking them back to the springs, streams, and rivers in this country. At times I found myself longing for the wilder rivers of my childhood in California, but it also got me out exploring the tamer rivers nearest my current home, which can be both heartbreakingly polluted and stunningly beautiful.

Regarding what it’s done, this book is more explicitly environmental and activist than Macfarlane’s previous writing. It’s been a joy for me to see it amplify the cause of river restoration in the UK. The Right to Roam movement has spent the year focusing on improving access to rivers, while other groups have been drawing attention to the pollution of these precious places by profit-seeking water companies and industrial agriculture. Of course, this activism has been ongoing for years, but I do think the book has been important in drawing more attention to the cause and is a great contribution to the national conversation.

–Kate

Fiction & Poetry

Passion by David Morley (Carcanet, £12.99)

David Morely is a naturalist, which is reflected in his poems, and one of a small but growing handful of Romany poets. In Passion, his most Romany book yet, he uses more Romany words than any poet I have read, to great effect. They are glossed at the end of the poems. I’ll try to remember to pick up the book on Christmas Day, the better to appreciate one of his poems which starts:

Christmas Day. The dawn is sure and quick and blue.
I toss the xalayimos [wet wash] on the line and place my pot of cyclamen
where it glimmers and grows and drinks the winter light.

David Morley should be reading in the bookshop early in the New Year. We’ll let you know.

–Ross

The Leather Boys by Gillian Freeman (Dead Ink, £10.99)

My favourite cover of the year (as well as a great read)! Originally published in 1961, amid landmark changes around homosexuality in the law in Britain, this comes from the brilliant indie publisher Dead Ink’s Outsider Classics series of lost cult literature. The Leather Boys grapples with class, love, masculinity and queer identity, centring around two working-class men connected through their affiliation with a gang. I am often sceptical about the readability (and enjoyability) of ‘rediscovered classics’, but I found this layered and charming and reading working-class love stories, especially queer ones, is still sadly rare!

–Sarah

Mouthing by Orla Mackey (Penguin, £9.99)

My discovery of the year was Mouthing by Orla Mackey, thanks to Sarah for the recommendation. It’s got multiple narrators, and a great sense of personal voice. It’s written in Hiberno-English (posh term for English as it’s spoken in Ireland). It’s the only book I’ve ever read that uses ‘ibex’ in the sense my Mam would (hint: nothing to do with wild goats). I was a bit disappointed Mackey didn’t also use Mam’s other equally loaded term ‘gazebo’ (nothing to do with fancy garden structures). But I’ll watch out for it in her next book.

–Deirdre

The Matchbox Girl by Alice Jolly (Bloomsbury, £18.99)

Told through the unique voice of Adelheid Brunner, a non-verbal autistic girl obsessed with collecting matchboxes, Alice Jolly’s book is a compelling historical novel set in wartime Vienna, providing an unforgettable perspective on a dark period.
Adelheid finds herself in a children’s clinic under the real-life Dr. Hans Asperger as the Nazi regime gains control of the city. Her relentless internal search for order clashes with the escalating chaos and danger outside, forcing her to witness heart-breaking choices and systemic cruelty.

Vividly imagined and meticulously researched, the book is a powerful study of survival and humanity. Most importantly, questioning the knowledge and complicity of Asperger, an otherwise compassionate researcher in such an evil regime.

–Carl

 In the Late Summer by Magdalena Blaževic, translated from the Croatian by Andelka Raguž (Linden Editions, £12)

This is a beautiful, devastating read, set during the Bosnian war and narrated by Ivana, a 14 year old girl we know has died. The juxtaposition of innocence and childish joy with the brutality of war could easily feel gimmicky, but the prose is carefully balanced and the translation holds a rhythm that feels authentic. The narrative is also based on the author’s personal experience and dedicated to the residents of Kiseljak. For all this heaviness, the novel captures so much joy and care in the depiction of childhood friendship, of rural life and family. Certainly not the easiest read, but one I highly recommend nonetheless.

–Sarah

In The Great When by Alan Moore (New in Paperback in 2025, Bloomsbury, £9.99)

My favourite read this year is from none other than the warped imagination of Alan Moore. I feel I should warn you – the opening chapter is strange, stranger than the rest of the book actually, and at times uncomfortably explicit. It acts as a sort of cinematic opening credit music, setting the scene and the background of the characters that will appear later. But stick with it, and the book eventually turns into a mind-bending romp through a post-war London which is overlayed on a parallel city made of myth and magic. In truth, I’ve read books with roughly that premise before, but this alternate London is somehow more of a psychedelic hallucination, and yet strangely more real feeling than a typical magic London novel.  Also, for those who (like me) are geeky about 19th and early 20th century magic, the book is fantastically well researched, weaving historical occultists’ lives with a fictional young bookseller, just trying now to get turned literally inside out… like the last guy.

–Kate

Service Model by Adrian Tchaikovsky (Tor, £10.99)*

What would happen if we programmed computers and robots to take care of absolutely everything? Look to the future, when the human race has nearly died out and computers are running the world, but still obeying commands given centuries before – the result can only be ridiculously funny.

Charles the robot valet is carrying out his tasks. He’s checking his master’s appointment list. He’s laying out his master’s clothes so his master can visit anyone who is on his appointment list for the day, even though his master has not left the house in years. He’s going through his task list one by one, even though none of them make sense any more. He discovers that some of his master’s clothes are covered in blood, and then remembers that he cut his master’s throat while shaving him. He has no idea why. He avoids arrest by robot police and sets off for the Central Services diagnostic centre to find out what’s wrong with himself. He arrives to find a long unmoving queue of odd robots, and is encouraged to jump the queue by an even stranger robot called The Wonk, as the queue hasn’t moved for decades. The Wonk christens the valet UnCharles (he lost his name when his master died) and they set off on an increasingly strange odyssey to discover their destinies. If I haven’t already sold you on this, imagine a robot-controlled library where the robots act like knights to protect the zillion gigabits of data, which in the interests of efficiency they’ve converted to binary then put all the bits in order… I challenge you to read this and not hurt from laughing.

– Pippa
*not available on our website at time of sending, email or phone to order

Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar (New in Paperback in 2025, Picador, £9.99 )

Some books are worth the hype, but being stubborn, I often refuse to pick them up until they’re no longer ‘cool’. Nominated for a slew of prizes, and winning several, this debut novel from a poet managed to take me by surprise. The prose is not florid, it’s funny, sardonic, and very readable. The protagonist could easily be read as an author stand in: Iranian-American poet, aspiring writer, untapped genius. But Akbar takes those expectations and skewers them. Laughing at tropes he has embraced and embodied, while bringing heaps of cultural critique and millennial hopelessness. Obsessed with martyrdom and what it means for a life to have ‘meant something’ in its death, our protagonist embarks on an artistic interrogation of identity and meaning in contemporary America.

– Sarah

Heart Lamp: selected stories by Banu Mushtaq, translated by Deepa Bhasthi (And Other Stories, £14.99) and 

The Glass Maker by Tracy Chevalier (New in Paperback in 2025, Borough Press, £9.99)

Following the theme of using “foreign words” in a text for those reading in English. Mustaq and her translator take no prisoners in including more of such words – in Kannada – than I can recall in any novel or set of short stories. There is no gloss here, which helps the reader to feel a bit estranged from the situation, to pay more attention. Heart Lamp won the International Booker Prize and I suspect I was not alone in not having heard of the language before. It’s spoken by about 45 million people in India. The importance of these stories are that they are about the lives of Muslim women in this increasingly Hindu-dominiated country. The day to day problems of the women, however, are based in patriarchy. And unfortunately the women don’t always win. It’s a tough read.

In The Glass Maker there’s a few words of Venetian, but that’s not an issue in this more mainstream novel. The book starts in Venice in 1486 or rather across the lagoon at Murano where the trade is in glass. Orsolo Rosso – a woman – learns the trade. Her story, and that of her family continues down the generations to the COVID period, which reflect the even more ghastly plague years in Venice in the past. The plot device of the book is that the same woman, the same family, live in the present moment but the present moment can be a century after the last chapter. There’s no Doctor Who special effects. Down the generations the trade changes. Venice becomes less isolated from the mainland and what was once a craft becomes something for the tourist trade. Each time Rosso and her friends and family have to deal with the circumstances at the time. This is the first book of Chevalier’s I’ve read since The Girl with a Pearl Earring. If you liked that one you will like this.

– Ross

Non-Fiction

Resistance, edited by Steve McQueen (Monument, £25.00)

This book is stunning. For years, I didn’t quite understand why people would buy photograph books, but the collected images here are so arresting, I found myself sitting behind the till with a copy to look through whenever there was a lull in the shop. Resistance takes you through 100 years of British protest, from suffragists to Greenham Common up to the march against the invasion of Iraq in 2003. There are vast crowd shots and intimate portraits, tree huggers and gay kissers, police violence captured in a still. This is a beautiful and powerful collection of the varied ways we have fought as a nation and would make an excellent gift for anyone who loves art, history, politics or needs some hope in the current climate.

–Sarah

Women in Struggle: episodes from East Midlands history  Ed. Chris Wrigley (£8)

Notts and Derby Labour History Society has brought out Women in Struggle. No ISBN, so not on our webshop but available to purchase over the counter, by phone or email. Essays… from forgotten episodes like the strikes of the Nottingham Female Cigar Makers Union – bet you’d never heard of them – to the more recent struggle of East Midlands women in support of the miners’ strike. This latter includes material never published before about sexist behaviour by the police towards the women of the strike.

–Ross

Everyday Jews, by Keith Kahn-Harris (Icon, £10.99)

Kahn-Harris, author of the Five Leaves’ title What Does a Jew Look Like?, and academic books on heavy metal, says that if someone came down from Mars they would think the most important ritual of observant Jews was the “supper quiz” at their synagogue. He wants Jews to get off the front pages and get on with the mundane if not boring life of being Jewish. Five Leaves organised an event on the book at the Liberal synagogue and it seemed appropriate that the other synagogue had a bus trip to Hull that day. At the London launch there was mention of a museum of crap Judaica and the worst kosher snacks he could find were passed round. Beneath the drollery, Kahn-Harris has a serious message about the role of Jews in the UK, wishing they could or would go back to being and be seen as being, well, everyday.

–Ross

Slugs: a manifesto by Abi Palmer (Makina, £14)

This is one of the strangest and most beautiful books I’ve read. I was very excited for this release last year, and have returned to the book and reread it again several times. I wanted to highlight it in this newsletter because there’s currently an exhibition on at the brilliant Site Gallery in Sheffield, inspired by this particular work. Abi Palmer is a disabled artist and writer and this work asks us to consider loving bodies deemed unloveable. To move slowly and luxuriate in our time and connection with the world. To embrace our slimy natures! It is poetic and defiant.

–Sarah

Billy Bragg – A People’s History by Billy Bragg & Richard Houghton, (Spenwood, £35)

If you can resist buying this for yourself, you may want to give it as a gift in a heavy duty stocking! It’s big, weighty and you could lose yourself in it and not reappear until spring. Fans and fellow artists, including the likes of Phil Jupitus and Chris Packham, combine to tell the definitive story of the Bard of Barking, with plenty of contributions from the man himself and an abundance of nostalgic photos and memorabilia. From the early days in Riff-Raff to today, via ‘A New England’ and ‘Levi Stubbs Tears’, a stellar career of four decades-plus is comprehensively and very enjoyably covered.

–Carl

Revolutionary Witchcraft by Sarah Lyons (Running Press, £12.99)

Do you know someone who’s dying to hex the patriarchy? Then this is just the book they need in their stocking this year. This beautiful small format book gives an overview on how different marginalized groups have used modern witchcraft to effect political change, and to promote healing and solidarity within their groups. It mixes quick bite history lessons with practical exercises in modern magical techniques including meditations, a self-initiation ceremony and sigil-making. Oh, and the book is lavishly illustrated in black, white and red with the inspiring art of Hanna Barczyk, which alone is worth the price.

–Kate

The Craftivist Collective Handbook by Sarah Corbett (Unbound, £22)

Sarah Corbett released How to Be a Craftivist a few years ago, emphasising the power of slow protest and offering ways to counter burnout in times of political strife. That message only feels more vital now, sadly. This handbook takes the theory from her first book and gives you 20 projects to do to help you reconnect with yourself and your politics through craft that is accessible regardless of prior experience. From small solo projects to public displays, collaborative pieces to protest gifts, the projects are varied and accompanied by further thoughts, tips and even craftivist playlists!

–Sarah

Crafting a Better World by Diana Weymar (Harper Collins, £18.99)

From the creator of the Tiny Pricks Project- which created a material record of Trump’s presidency and of the movement against it by stitching his own (vile) words into textiles- this pocket sized book is a collection of interviews, illustrations, records of exhibitions and also projects you can do at home as acts of material resistance. With contributions from 25 artists and activists, this little book can give you a physical project to channel your rage into as well as offering solidarity and hope through the work of others.

–Sarah

Looking After Your Books by Francesca Gilligan (Bodlean, £16.99)

Lots of our customers collect books (and keep us in a job), some are Collectors (with a capital C) and some work with Collections. Francesca Gilligan, who fits all three categories, manages successfully to make this book relevant to all three types.
She’s not precious about it all, noting the various ways those who collect for fun might develop a collection of Agatha Christie books. She writes about how we look after books – there are excellent tips on how to deal with wet books –  and where to find books to collect. She describes the second hand and antiquarian market and the history of collecting. The book ends with how to get rid of books. I guess we all have that problem. However, if you happen do have a first edition of The Great Gatsby in good condition I’ll take it off your hands for a tenner. Twenty if it has a jacket. And then resell it for £7-£9000 or, jacketed, a hundred grand. Such is the nonsense end of collecting. Appropriately, Looking After Books is a neat, sewn hardback with nice endpapers. It’s going in my collection of books about books.

– Ross

Inklings series (404 Ink, £7.50)

Whether you do jolabokaflod, are looking for a small secret santa gift, or the perfect stocking filler, I don’t think you can go wrong with one of the brilliant 404 Inklings series: palm-sized books on niche topics. I have relied heavily on their broad selection of excellently written books for all of the above, and have never had a disappointed gift receiver! My personal favourites are:
We’re Falling Through Space: Doctor Who and Celebrating the Mundane, by J. David Reed
BFFs: The Radical Potential of Female Friendship, by Anahit Behrooz
The Appendix: Transmasculine Joy in a Transphobic Culture, by Liam Konemann
The titles make the topics pretty clear! But each is also written with such clear passion as well as careful research and thought, reading them is a joy.

–Sarah

Boustany by Sami Tamimi (Ebury Press, £30)

Invariably, whenever a new Ottolenghi cookbook comes out, members of my family buy it for each other and we’re always delighted. However, this year I’m even more excited than usual for us to swap new copies of Sami Tamimi’s first solo book, Boustany. Tamimi, the Ottolenghi co-founder and co-author of Falastin, Jerusalem, and Ottolenghi: The Cookbook has long championed Palestinian food and culture and this is dedicated to celebrating dishes from his home country through vegetables. Sure to be packed with flavour to please all dietary preferences, this is a gift that keeps giving if you get invited round to dinner by whoever you gift it to!

–Sarah

Still Waters & Wild Waves, by Angela Harding (Little Brown, £25.00)

Harding is a big favourite with our customers: cards, calendars, books of the season and there’s this (admittedly 2024) book of prints, personal notes and early sketches of seascapes, rivers, and the animals and fish that live in them. Very nice.

–Ross

Paula Rego: visions of English literature by Marco Livingstone, Marina Warner, Rosanna McLaughlin (Hayward Gallery, £25.00)

Though I never met the late Paula Rego, a friend of mine and publishing colleague Tony Rudolf, was her male model (and partner) for many years. In the summer at the Ben Uri Gallery there was an exhibition of sketches, paintings and prints that he had been given over the years.  Many included images of Tony which looked nothing like Tony, but someone had to sit or stand in an awkward position as Paula Rego drew her, sometimes disturbing, paintings. I like her work in exhibitions, but am not sure I would like many on my walls at home. But I might just accidentally buy this book of her work on Jane Eyre, Peter Pan and Nursery Rhymes in general. Of course many nursery rhymes are not always cheery little numbers, and in Rego’s hands they can be pretty grotesque. The three subjects are accompanied by illuminating essays. Rego’s works, as Rosanna McLaughlin says, “capture the violence and vulnerability that are tightly bound to the concept of innocence. In doing so they express something of of what it is to be a girl, a woman forever trapped in the battle between the two.”

–Ross

Fiction & Poetry

Lincolnshire Folk Tales Reimagined, eds Anna Milton and Rory Waterman (Five Leaves, £12.99)

If you’re like me and you love nothing better on a cold winter night than to curl up by the fire with a book of weird tales, this one won’t disappoint. The book was born out of the Lincolnshire Folk Tales Project which recorded and mapped stories from across the county. Then fourteen authors from the county dove into this trove to come up with modern versions of the tales, in a mixture or poetry and prose. Some are relatively straight-forward line the poem about the rude behaviour of the famous Lincoln Imp, while others weave several stories across time into one new tale. A perfect, and unusual gift for someone who appreciates a good yarn.

– Kate

Capitalists Must Starve by Park Seolyeon, translated by Anton Hur (Tilted Axis, £14.99)

New from one of my favourite indie publishers – Tilted Axis Press – and a timely sentiment for the Christmas Carol season (muppet version only!). This is a novelisation of the life of real activist Kang Juryong, a Korean rubber factory worker who became a revolutionary. I learned a huge amount about the Korean independence movement and industrial revolution of the early 20th Century, while being completely invested in the fully fleshed out characters of the story.

– Sarah

The Poems: Forty Years of The North, edited by Ann and Peter Samson (Smith/Doorstop, £10)*

The North is one of the most reliable poetry magazines, edited by that Nottinghamshire exile Peter Samson and his wife Ann. Forty years is a long time to be running any poetry magazine, but they’ve done it. This collection includes poems by those you might expect, Armitage, McMillan father and son, Helen Mort, Liz Berry, Hannah Lowe… and people from other cultures including Eavan Boland and the late Gboyega Odubanjo whose work has also graced the magazine.

– Ross
*not available on our website at time of posting, email or phone to order

Sunless Solstice: Strange Christmas Tales for the Longest Nights eds  Lucy Evans, Tanya Kirk (British Library, £9.99)

I just wouldn’t be yuletide without me bullying my partner into reading me spooky stories while I keep us topped up on hot mulled beverages. This generally means an gift of one of the fabulous collections from the British Library’s Tales of the Weird series. A particular yuletide favourite is Sunless Solstice: Strange Christmas Tales for the Longest Nights, with a mix of well know early 20th century horror authors and some lesser known gems. Also in the series with a holiday theme are Chill Tidings and Haunters at the Hearth.

– Kate

Kids

Song of the Golden Hare by Jackie Morris (Graffeg, £9.99)

One of the most beautiful books I’ve seen this year- both the illustrations and the prose are lush and gorgeous. Raising Hare meets Watership Down (without the lifelong trauma), this tells of a special family who care for orphaned leverets and know the secret song of the hares. They race against hunters (human and non-human) as they follow the old queen of the hares as she journeys to the sea.

– Sarah

Firefly by Robert Macfarlane & Luke Adam Hawker (Magic Cat, £14.99)

This is sort-of a kids book, but honestly something I’d give to an adult as well. It’s a simple and poetic story about finding light in dark times. Hawker’s stunning etchings pair beautifully with Macfarlane’s emotionally evocative words, both filled with the beauty of nature.  It’s bound in blue cloth, stamped in shining copper making for a truly special-feeling edition.

– Kate

Winnie-the-Pooh: Winter In The Wood by Jane Riordan & Mark Burgess, (Harper Collins, £16.99)

Jane Riordan sympathetically takes the reins of A.A.Milne’s cosy world in Winnie the Pooh: Winter in the Wood. A charming, gentle return to the Hundred Acre Wood, capturing the warmth and whimsy of the original stories, creating a cozy winter tale filled with friendship, curiosity, and small adventures. The illustrations of Mark Burgess (in the style of E.H.Shepard) pair perfectly with the story’s calm, snowy atmosphere. It’s a delightful read for young children and a nostalgic treat for adults who love Pooh. Sweet, comforting, and full of heart, this book makes an excellent seasonal treat.

– Carl

Counting Winter by Nancy White Carlstrom, illustrated by Claudia McGehee (Eerdman’s, £14.99)

Counting Winter – you can guess – is a counting book with nature scenes you will see in winter. “One red fox walks across the white snow…”, “Two ravens croak and gurgle…” You get the picture. It’s a North American book, and some of the animals might seem a bit unfamiliar to your average five year old. But they will be just as excited by the illustrations of musk oxen as owls because the illustrations are superb. All I need are some five year old relatives and we’re good to go on this one.

– Ross

Press Here by Hervé Tullett (Chronicle, £6.99)

This board book is one of my favourite books ever. As you follow the instructions, turn the page and see what happens. Start by pressing the yellow button on the cover, then push more buttons, shake and tilt the book, and be surprised as the buttons multiply, move and change colour. I’ve read it over and over to myself, sadly it wasn’t published until my youngest child turned 24. If I ever have grandchildren this will be my first gift to them. And it will fit nicely into a stocking.

– Pippa

The Girl at the Front of the Class by Helen Cooper (Hodder, £12.99 HB, £7.99 PB)

I’ve read a few children’s books on the child refugee experience (which have occasionally resulted in customers coming into the shop to find a tearful bookseller) but this one is a different perspective. A new girl comes to the school but she seems sad all of time and doesn’t want to talk or engage with the other students. Another student wants to be her friend so he talks to the adults and tries lots of different ways to do it. Eventually she’s able to make friends with him and play with the other children. The book is hopeful and practical, and includes a list in the back of ways to befriend a refugee child, though the tips could apply to any child who’s become withdrawn because of difficult circumstances.

– Kate

Non-Fiction

Dead of Winter by Sara Clegg (Granta, £10.99)

A fantastic exploration of the darker side of midwinter traditions.
Part history, part travel writing, Clegg takes us on her travels around the UK and continental Europe in search of the darkest folk practices of the festive season, served up with side of snarky wit. We meet anarchic horse skulls in Wales and Kent, go on a night walk in the cemetery to catch a glimpse of those who will die in the new year, attend a parade of horned Krampus monster who beat festival attendees with birch sticks. The book is at well researched without getting bogged down in academic language. Oh, and don’t skip the footnotes – they would make Terry Pratchett proud

–Kate

The English Year by Steve Roud (Penguin, £14.99)

A deep and rich guide to the customs, festivals, and seasonal traditions that shape the English calendar. Month by month, learn about the folklore, history and how celebrations evolved and what they reveal about everyday life. The book works equally well as a reference to dip into, or as a leisurely read from cover to cover. Ever informative for the many years I have owned a copy, it has always given me an appreciation for our national cultural rhythms.

–Carl

Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paulo Freire (Penguin, 9.99)

Pedagogy is evergreen! Making this a seasonal pick not just because we’ve had two busy non-fiction book group discussions on it in the last month, but because it still feels so relevant to community organising and approaches to teaching and learning today. Within Nottingham we’re seeing huge changes proposed to higher education courses, including potentially losing all modern language degrees in the city. Thinking about alternative approaches to education, value and community feels more important than ever and Freire, although not the easiest to get into, sets out a roadmap for meaningful connection and transformation.

–Sarah

Goliath’s Curse by Luke Kemp (Viking, £25)

Unsettling, but also strangely hopeful, Goliath’s Curse is a history of societal collapse, tracing patterns from ancient empires to modern global states. He argues that extreme inequality and elite hubris have always weakened “Goliath” powers (Russia, China, the U.S. etc), making them fragile despite seeming invincible. The book mixes deep historical research with urgent warnings about possible ‘catastrophic collapse’ from the convergence of climate change, inequality, AI, and nuclear risk. A morbidly fascinating (not sure what this says about me) survival manual for the future. How likely? You can only judge for yourself.

–Carl

 Reading in the Dark by Seamus Deane (Vintage Classics £9.99)

This is Deane’s memoir of growing up in mid-twentieth-century Derry, in the heart of the Bogside. It’s the best book I’ve read about the Troubles, but also a terrific chronicle of boyhood. Deane was a published poet, and it shows. Each of the segments – some only a few pages long – works as a metaphor for the inscrutable society the narrator is growing up in. Deane was slow to admit that this was a memoir, so you will often find it in the fiction shelves.

–Deirdre

Fiction

The Signalman by Charles Dickens (Galley Beggar Press £5.99)

Who doesn’t love a ghost story on dark winter’s nights? While A Christmas Carol is the obvious choice, The Signalman is also a haunting and atmospheric story of psychological tension and supernatural mystery. A troubled railway signalman sees a figure no one else can see, hears bells ringing in his signal box when no one else does… A cautionary reflection on technology and a warning against isolation. Short yet memorable, it is arguably Dickens’ most compelling exploration of fear and fate.

–Carl

Katabasis by R.F. Kuang (Harper Collins £22)

Does a sojourn in Hell count as seasonal? I’m saying so (for this newsletter at least!). I think there’s something wonderful about delving into a chunky book as the evenings close in, and this one doesn’t take itself too seriously, while also pulling from a huge range of work on the afterlife. What’s a sleep-deprived perfectionist to do when they accidentally kill their thesis supervisor and one of the most renowned scholars to ever live? Go and bring him back from death, of course! If you’ve thought about reading Dante, but never quite got round to it, why not explore the underworld through this tongue-in-cheek Cambrigian iteration instead? You’ll have more fun!

–Sarah

The Book of Dust trilogy

There was something not quite right about Northern Lights, I never worked out what it was although I read the trilogy twice. However, I love The Book of Dust. There is humour scattered throughout that makes me laugh out loud, and the commentary on our world sneaks through every now and then to make me think. And it’s a rip-roaring yarn, full of adventure and mystery. The first book tells how Malcolm Polstead and Alice Lawson save baby Lyra from the tentacles of the Magisterium’s CCD (secret police a la Stalin-era Russia). Then the second and third jump forward 20 years to tell what happens when Pantalaimon leaves Lyra to find ‘what she’s lost’, and Lyra hunts for him along the Silk Road, also following the trail of the rose trade, which is in danger from the unfathomable and violent Men from the Mountains.

–Pippa

The Plague by Albert Camus

OK, it’s Christmas, but let’s pretend otherwise as I want to recommend The Plague, and it’s really just not that seasonal. Camus’ novel is about an imaginary plague in the real Algerian town of Oran, first published in French in 1947 and set in the forties. At first it was rodents coming out and dying, singly, then in numbers, then the first people started to get ill, and then… well, you can imagine the rest. How did people react? The main clergyman in town blamed the people for this wrath of God, Doctor Rieux does what he can to save people, a visitor tries to do everything he can to leave the town but nobody is allowed to leave. Meanwhile the body count rises, and the dead need to be buried. How do people cope?
It was hard to read this book post-COVID and at the time of the COVID inquiry and still see the book just as an historic classic. Everything we thought and felt during the pandemic is here. Camus was prescient, though writing about the plague of the far right of his time.
The most telling sentence in the book though is from the narrator, whose identity is revealed only late in the book. They remark “I had continued to be a plague victim for all these long years”.

–Ross

What We’re Reading

For the new kid in the school, get ready with this tour. Given the book is for small children, we start with the toilets. Great for singing in because the echo is amazing, but weeing is good too. The playground, an emergency place, Gary the fish, and – last but not least – the library. All you need now are some friends. The book is useful too to go back to after a year, say, so the child can talk about the things they know and perhaps give a tour themselves.

–Ross

1,000 trees to find in Britain and Ireland’s towns and cities is the subtitle, so, Nottingham then… And why not start from the bookshop.  Turn left out of our alley and in four minutes you can be looking at the Yellow Catalpa on Carlton Street at the start of Hockley. Turn right at the end of our alley and wander down to Castle Boulevard to find one of the best London Plane trees. And then there’s the Arboretum (the Arbo if you are young), and the huge fig tree hanging on a cliff beside the Contemporary, and the 500 year old oak at Woolly Park, the Medlar on University Park…
Pick a town or city and check out what’s there in this wonderful 500 page gazetteer.
Some places, said Paul Wood (a nice bit of nominative determinism there) have their own smaller tree guide. Anyone here want to write one?

–Ross

There’s been a lot of interest in recent years about the persecution of alleged witches, but until now, not much has been written about cunning folk, who were considered a different sort of magical practitioner and were more tolerated by society. Stanmore gives a highly entertaining account of the services they offered, including healing, recovering lost items, and even finding buried treasure, as well as an explanation of the roles they played in late medieval and early modern society.
There also some real oddities in here, like the man who returned from Spain with a human head in his luggage, to be used for divination. The authorities decided that since the head didn’t belong to one of the King’s subjects, no crime had been committed, but they did confiscate it none the less. I wonder if they just couldn’t work out the import duty to put on it…

–Kate

–Ross

I rarely reread books (there are so many more waiting for me!) but occasionally book club forces my hand. This month, I couldn’t be more grateful for that being the case. Returning to Butler’s dystopian world, set in our present, has been rewarding and haunting in equal measure. The text remains fresh, engaging and disturbingly prescient. Never has fiction felt more like a natural tool for survival.

–Sarah

Humans have pushed the planet close to the point where they cannot survive, and Personal Computer Companions (androids) have been developed to the point of sentience, although they are still subject to human orders. The story starts with Emancipation Day approaching, when all PCCs and humans will have equal rights. Abigail is David’s PCC, illegally made in the image of his dead wife. As her freedom approaches, it becomes increasingly important that PCC Abigail finds out what happened to human Abigail. This is a dystopian novel with a difference, examining what it means to be human and what it means to be a sentient non-human alongside a cracking plot full of twists.

–Pippa

Queer, trans, autistic and disabled people find community and fight the violent institutional powers in small town Appalachia. What’s not to love?! This YA book connects the rich history of working class resistance to today’s impoverished communities, abandoned and written off by many as “stupid rednecks”. Also, our protagonist is haunted by the ghost of a mining union organiser.

–Sarah