For those who found themselves at the British Library last weekend, standing in close proximity to a girl with watering eyes who had been brought to tears by the original manuscripts of Jane Austen, I do apologise. What can I say, I was pretty impressed.
I’ve loved books and reading for as long as I can remember – to the point where my older brother (who didn’t share this same love) would pay me to read his school books and report back to him. This love meant that years of studying literature (everything from Shakespeare, Looking for Alibrandi Anna Karenina, Dickens, Austen, Fitzgerald and, lest we forget, that somewhat random book about the Hume Highway) were hardly a chore.
So when I found myself at the British Library (for an Alice in Wonderland exhibition), standing in front of the original handwritten manuscripts of authors whom have educated and entertained me over past decades, how could I not be in awe?
Though it sounds quite naive, it was somewhat humbling to see these physical artefacts which confirm that these authors whom I’ve revered were once actual living breathing people in this incredible city. To share this with them, albeit separated by a few centuries, is pretty special.
This got me thinking about my favourite British books and how my understanding, experience and appreciation of them has changed since living here. And because my absolute favourite part of reading a fantastic book is when you get to share it with someone else, today I thought I’d share three of my favourite books to get you feeling a bit British.