As I mentioned in my review of “Singapore Dream“, I’ve been distracted from Mount TBR recently by a number of new arrivals, and instead of adding them to the stacks I’ve found myself reading them. The book I’m posting about today is one I which had high hopes for; I’d seen quite a buzz about it on social media and it’s from an indie publisher I love and trust, Salt Publishing, so I had to buy a copy (direct from the publisher, and I can recommend their service!) The book is “White Spines” by Nicholas Royle, and if ever a book was guaranteed to be the perfect read for me, this was it.

Royle is something of a polymath; as well as writing novels, novellas and short stories, he’s an academic, editor and publisher. Interestingly, in the latter guise I’ve encountered his work, as he’s the man behind Nightjar Press and I read and loved their beautiful chapbook of M. John Harrison’s “Doe Lea” a while back. “White Spines”, however, is a different kind of work from his other books, and takes its title from the design of early Picador paperback releases, between 1972 and the end of the 1990s. The publisher adopted a distinctive design (which Salt have cleverly replicated as a tribute to the Picadors), and Royle is a collector of these editions; and in his book he relates his travels, ranging far and wide in search of elusive missing editions, as well as exploring all manner of bookshops and charity shops in which he searches.

Love Salt’s design on the Royle book!

Now, I love a white spined Picador, and I have many myself (more of which later); so of course I felt an instant connection with the book and its author. Like Royle, I’ve haunted many a second hand bookshop and charity shop, hoping for that wonderful bookish serendipity when a volume you’ve been after for ages falls into your hands as if it was meant to be. That connection deepened when, at the start of the book, Royle related his experiences in second hand shop in East Anglia, and then in Queen’s Road, Leicester – at the Loros and Age Concern bookshops where I’ve had many a happy find whilst visiting the Offspring! So I felt assured straight away that I was in the company of someone who loved to haunt the places where old books could be found, just like I do!

Royle doesn’t just focus on his book shop adventures, however (thought that in itself would make a fascinating read); he also explores the Picadors themselves, speaking to ex-staffers from the publisher, discussing the wonderful and striking artwork which was used on various covers, and revealing the occasional design anomaly, when some piece of art was *gasp* allowed to creep over the white spine and onto the back cover! He relates his dreams about books and shopping, conversations he overhears in bookshops, and explores the random items found inside second hand books (‘inclusions’). I’ve come across a number of those in my time (the one which haunts me is the Eiffel Tower photograph I wrote about here) and Royle relates some very interesting finds over the years. He even takes detours into collecting different publishers, and it’s hard not to go down a rabbit hole like that yourself.

Wherever several charity shops are gathered together in a small town centre or village, a number of phenomena will generally occur. Firstly, in at least three of the shops staff will be playing the same terrible radio station, so that you might leave Barnardo’s to escape “Young at Heart” by the Bluebells, only to enter Mind in plenty of time to hear the last three verses of the same wretched song. Secondly, the same middle-aged man in a Fred Perry shirt you spot thumbing through the albums in Shelter will somehow also be flicking through the vinyls in Sue Ryder by the time you get there. And if you see any Picadors at all, they will be by Kathy Lette.

Through all of these adventures what shines through most strongly is Royle’s love of books, of bookshops, and of the many people he meets and knows through visiting these. Inevitably there are sadnesses; bookshops closed down or disappeared, proprietors who’ve passed on, and as I’ve experienced myself, there’s been a drastic reduction in many places of the sheer number of second hand bookshops. As I’ve mentioned in the past, some time ago I worked in Salisbury for a number of years, and it was so chock full of bookshops you couldn’t get away from them. Alas, most have gone, including one which was part of a small chain responsible for my introduction to the Picador imprint…

As I’ve probably related before, my first Picadors were my Richard Brautigan books, and I began my collection with “The Abortion: An Historical Romance”, purchased in Paperback Parade in Cheltenham. I quickly acquired all the Brautigan books they had and from then on, Picador were a publisher to watch. Paperback Parade was a great bookshop (they also had a branch in Salisbury), and they stocked (yes, you’ve guessed it) only paperbacks, and shelved by publisher. From then on, I’ve collected a good number of white spined Picadors, but until Royle’s book came out I hadn’t realised quite how many I owned. I’ll share below an image of just some of them – this is by no means all, but unlike Royle I don’t have all of mine shelved in one place, so this took a bit of digging about to pull together.

Just a few of my white spines – some long-time favourite authors in there…

What strikes me, looking at these images, is how important the Picador white spines were to my personal library and my personal development; these are some of the most pivotal books in my reading life (Brautigan, Calvino, Hesse, Kavan….) and they’re ones I’ve kept all these decades and will always keep. If I’d been asked what publisher was most important to me over the years, I might have picked Penguin; looking at these, however, I’m not sure any more, as the white spined books were a crucial part of the person I became and I think Picador books definitely formed the way I think.

Anomalies – a Picador classic which has a black spine, and “Grendel”, where the design crosses the spine onto the back cover…

Needless to say, “White Spines” is a dangerous book for any collector or obsessive (and Royle obviously recognises that this is an addiction with the clever pun of the title); I accept now that I *am* a book addict and that’s all there is to it! So as you can imagine, I completely identified with this book, adored reading about Royle’s bookish experiences and his histories of Picadors; and I read it from start to finish in a day, just couldn’t put it down. As I said, it’s dangerous; Royle mentions any number of interesting-sounding titles in the text, and there is a list at the end of the white spine Picadors he owns. This makes fascinating reading (how I wish there was a complete list of all the books they issued!), and of course has had me sending off for books of which I wasn’t aware. So far only a couple have arrived, pictured below with “White Spines”, but I can’t promise they’ll be the last…

So “White Spines” was sheer joy from start to finish. Entertaining, readable, funny, profound and full of so many fascinating tidbits, it’s the perfect read for any booklover; and I found it really uplifting to read about someone who’s as obsessed with books as am I (and so many others I know). Royle lets his book-hunting experiences during the pandemic slip into the mix, too, in a way that’s always organic and doesn’t dominate his narrative. But it’s clear that he and we all gain so much comfort and support from our books and our collections; and if you love books as much as I do you’ll get great joy from reading “White Spines”. I can’t recommend it highly enough and it will definitely be one of my books of the year!