There’s none less free than who
Does nothing and has nothing else to do
On the face of it, the spectrum is quite simplistic – from end to end it all seems familiar, colours drifting imperceptibly from one into the next – red, the oranges, yellows and greens and all the way through the blues to the violet. Our town community, like these colours, is wide ranging and full of variety – it affords the spice and the variety to life. But on closer inspection there are some shades and tones a little less obvious, they’re hidden from view, often for good reason. For many years we have had associations with our local prisons; the supply of book orders to prisoners; the support we give literacy initiatives for inmates; donating books to prison libraries. A visit to our closest prison to meet the saintly librarians last week revealed the most tragic of colours – mix hopelessness with struggle and that’s the colour we saw – the darkest shade of sadness. But again, on closer inspection the colours aren’t always what they seem – chinks of light and a brightness can be found. Sure, it would be naive to think that every incarcerated soul can change their circumstances for the better, some are beyond redemption, but for those who want to try, then starting with a book is as good a place as any.
Those Saints of the Prison Library at HMP Bullingdon had created a place which offered calm away from the chaos of the wings, the Story Book Dads scheme keeps families connected, writing groups released creativity, the book club provoked curiosity and discussion – the bars on the windows are very real, but there are still opportunities for liberty. The odds may be stacked against, the task heartbreakingly difficult (and not one to be envied) but those librarians are trying to change prisoners’ lives with the brightest of colours. The poor level of literacy amongst many prisoners is often linked directly to re-offending and if reading and literacy can change a life for the better, we should always do what little we can to help those prepared to help themselves – our job is to keep providing the paint.
Liberty by Edward Thomas
The last light has gone out of the world, except
This moonlight lying on the grass like frost
Beyond the brink of the tall elm’s shadow.
It is as if everything else had slept
Many an age, unforgotten and lost
The men that were, the things done, long ago,
All I have thought; and but the moon and I
Live yet and here stand idle over the grave
Where all is buried. Both have liberty
To dream what we could do if we were free
To do some thing we had desired long,
The moon and I. There’s none less free than who
Does nothing and has nothing else to do,
Being free only for what is not to his mind,
And nothing is to his mind. If every hour
Like this one passing that I have spent among
The wiser others when I have forgot
To wonder whether I was free or not,
Were piled before me, and not lost behind,
And I could take and carry them away
I should be rich; or if I had the power
To wipe out every one and not again
Regret, I should be rich to be so poor.
And yet I still am half in love with pain,
With what is imperfect, with both tears and mirth,
With things that have an end, with life and earth,
And this moon that leaves me dark within the door.
In fiction this week, we’ve got humorous crime, Venetian delights with an unusual journey through history, and an absurd new tale from Helen Oyeyemi. In non-fiction, the weather might not have made its mind up for now, but the summer of 1976 was scorching, and John Williams recounts it all. And for little ones, a Bluey cookbook will keep busy hands active for hours!
As always, if there’s anything you need, just pop by or reply to this email!
From Sophie
Feeling curious? Click on the book covers below to explore the book.
The full newsletter with links to books – including this week’s Signed Editions – can be found HERE
