Photo by James Walker.

Usually my bookshelves are a place of complete order, the kind of categorising which would make a Victorian blush with pride. In its heyday, this entailed novels shelved according to genre/movement/themes. Naturally these ran in alphabetical order apart from my history section, which was filed according to conflict. I am somewhat ashamed/proud to admit that even the shelves were implicit in the archiving as the books generally ascended from light hearted at the base (comedy) to more serious issues (biography/academic) at the top.

But sadly this isn’t the case anymore as I have moved house too many times and am yet to afford myself the pleasure of this obsessive Hornbyesque type ordering. But it will happen. It always does. It’s just a matter of time. And the problem will get worse because the more I read the more I create new categories and realise that some books fall into at least three of these. Does this mean I need to start purchasing multiple copies? Oh dear, that’s a bad thought.

The photograph I’ve attached is from my dining room and has two symmetrical shelves. Who knows what the future will hold, perhaps American literature on the left and European on the right. Time will tell. But for now there is no logical order. I’m learning to let go. I do still require some order and have a ‘review’ section scattered on my bedside table to remind me they’re important and need immediate love and attention. Talking of love…

Selecting five books from these shelves is a difficult task, like asking a parent to name their favourite child. You may know the answer to this in your heart but it’s something you’d never publicly admit to. If you asked me this question in a week or so the list would no doubt change again. In fact I’ve realised I haven’t included The Life of Pi, Betty Blue, The Outsider, Papillion, The Secret River and the ultimate pulp anti-narrative, England Stories by Tim Etchells. I‘m sorry. I love you all the same. Honestly…

Defying Hitler by Sebastian Haffner
‘The first country to be invaded by the Nazis was Germany’ and so begins an alternative cultural and historical analysis of the rise of Fascism. I’ve read all perspectives of the Great Wars from Primo Levi to Antony Beevor but this one really hit home because it showed how everyone was implicit, right down to the office workers who were too afraid to refuse to produce the legal paperwork that made the horrendous atrocities legal.

Dirk Gentley’s Holistic Detective Agency by Douglas Adams
Each girlfriend that I’ve been serious about has been presented with a copy of this book and warned, if you don’t like it, we simply won’t get on. An absurd surreal quantum detective novel, it’s quite simply the finest example of how to produce perfectly balanced sentences. It’s also very funny. I cried when Douglas Adams died. I still think of him a lot now. No-one captures the wonderful absurd beauty of life as he. My favourite character invents a time machine so that he can go back in time to watch programmes he’s missed on TV – as he can’t figure out how to programme his video recorder. Genius.

A Man of his Time by Alan Sillitoe
In the tyrannical figure of Ernest Burton, Sillitoe has created arguably the most powerful despotic figure ever to grace the pages of literature. ‘Burton’ – as he is known by all – is a hard grafting Blacksmith who reigns over his eight legitimate children with an iron fist, demanding loyalty and obedience through a mixture of fear and hatred. If you want to know why Arthur Seaton (Saturday Night and Sunday Morning) turned out like he did and why kids these days ‘don’t know they’re born’ read on.

Captain Corellis’ Mandolin by Louis de Bernières
When I split up with my previous girlfriend – soon after she confessed to not liking Dirk Gently – I went to Kefalonia to read the novel in its natural setting. I couldn’t put it down and was gripped by the amazing, complex love story and the innocence of people thrown into awful circumstances. It also taught me about writing and how important it is to layer a plot to keep the reader intrigued about the resolutions of many characters.

Cold Mountain by Charles Frazier
Yet another historical, romantic novel. Maybe I should start giving this to girlfriend’s instead? My friends had been begging me to read this and like any stubborn male worth his salt I ignorantly argued it was soppy romantic trite. How completely wrong I was. Set to the backdrop of the American Civil war it follows a soldier returning home to his love who in his absence, has built up an amazing friendship with another woman. A tale of endurance and coping in difficult times that will make you cry. Thelma and Louise for those with a historical fetish.

I guess one thing which unites all of my choices is how our environment shapes us and the relationships we have with each other. My environment is one of books and always has been. There are a million friends and situations stacked up and down the three floors to my house, all offering advice and a vast range of emotions. Like writing they open up worlds and offer refuge. Mine is a warm welcoming environment which always finds space for new friends. Megan Taylor and Rod Maddocks are the most recent. Listen to them tell their story on my literary podcast WriteLion 5# or better still, come down and have a chat yourself.

The following blog entry was published with Un: Bound, a great feature where they get writers to discuss their books and the shelves that home them. My suggestion for future book loving bonding is: Your five favourite characters from literature and books you need to read in the country in which they were set. Hmm.