My infatuation with old dusty books is perhaps the real reason why this is the third entry in engtect on the Book Barns, not merely an exciting Somerset Book Barn follow up to the disappointing Bristol Book Barn for Robin and Kash. Kash was unwell so passed on Saturday’s trip but I guess there will be another BB excursion at some point. In addition to Robin and Han, Mark and Gerald came along.

The ‘old’ barn, a maze of towering shelves jam packed with old books, provided Robin and his book nose more of a challenge than Bristol’s wimpy stock. Whereas Mark and Gerald, I guess, wandered around bemused by the unusual scene. Han and I headed to the map room to pick up Bartholomew’s revised half-inch contoured maps (Great Britain, sheets 1,2,3,10) to almost complete our set of Southern England - our homes and holidays for most of our lives. The idea is to one day hang these maps, aligned next to each other as they should, on a big wall in a big house.

Recently the Somerset BB opened a new barn, as big as the old, but comparatively empty. The contrast in experience of the two barns is as shocking as “the hairy monster” in Babel. Domestic plastic double glazed doors open onto, surely the cheapest, definitely the brightest, already stained, blue carpet. First one feels dislike and discomfort towards its cheap and cringe making internal appearance. Then the honesty of the building, one realises, kind of makes it okay. I felt strange for giving the building my thumbs up (or at least sympathising with it) as I walked between its MDF shelves but presumably running a book shop which sells other peoples unwanted books for a percentage in the middle of Somerset countryside is not lucrative. One of the books I bought, sniffed out and recommended by Robin, was John Rushkin’s The Seven Lamps of Architecture. It amused me to read, over café lunch, yesterday:

The book promises to be an interesting read, and I always love old type sets. It continues to talk about the “1st Structural Deceits” and at one point says: “The architect is not bound to exhibit structure; nor are we to complain of him for concealing it, any more than we should regret that the outer surfaces of the human frame conceal much of its anatomy…” Nice!

Anyway, having rounded the party up for our departure I took a detour to the self help section for a laugh.

Much amusement was found by reading aloud the titles of these odd books. Coping with Thrush, Coping with Cot Death, How to get off Tranquilisers, Everything you need to know about your Breasts, and so on. My favourite being How to Start a Conversation and Make Friends - a recurring theme for jokes all afternoon. We bought none of these books but did get these:

Robin

• Poems of W. B. Yeats, edited by A. Norman Jeffaress, 1971. £2.50
• The Home of the Monk, The Rev. D. H. S. Cranage, 1926. £8

Mark

• Wright and Rounds Complete Method for the Cornet Horn, Baritone, Euphonium and Bombardon. £3.50
• The School of Manners or The Rules for Children’s Behaviour, 4th ed, 1995. £1.50
• Chambers Twentieth Century Dictionary, 1972. £4

Gerald

• The Caves of Steel, Isaac Asimov, 1973. £1
• Don Camillo’s Dilemma, Giovanni Guareschi, 1968. £1.50

Hannah

• Bartholomew’s Revised “Half-Inch” Contoured Map Great Britain, Sheet 1 Cornwall
• Bartholomew’s Revised “Half-Inch” Contoured Map Great Britain, Sheet 2 Dartmoor
• Bartholomew’s Revised “Half-Inch” Contoured Map Great Britain, Sheet 3 Exmoor
• Bartholomew’s Revised “Half-Inch” Contoured Map Great Britain, Sheet 10 Kent

Myself

• Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll, Illustrated by Sir John Tenniel, 1959. £5
• Collected Works of Oscar Wilde, The Plays, the Poems, the Stories and the Essays including De Profundis, 1997. £3
• The Seven Lamps of Architecture, John Ruskin, 1925. £3

Sadly I forgot to implement the ‘buy the oldest book for two quid’ competition. Next time ‘eh?!

A course on The Structural Use of Glass in January spurred me to visit The SS Great Britain as it included images, videos and commentary of the museums recent make over. So after a pack lunch on a bank of Chew Valley Lake, which was decidedly reminiscent of school trips, drizzling rain and all, we set off for Bristol.

At the entrance to the museum’s centre was a video playing the recovery of the ship from the Falkland Islands in July 1970 to Bristol, which showed the SS Great Britain passing under The Clifton Suspension Bridge for the first time. In the museum a painting showed the ship leaving Bristol (1843). Spotted the difference?

Clue: Brunel finished the SS Great Britain in 1843 and only started The Clifton Suspension Bridge in …1831. “The foundation stone was laid in 1831 but the project was dogged with political and financial difficulties and by 1843, with only the towers completed, the project was abandoned. Brunel died prematurely aged 53 yrs in 1859 but the Bridge was completed as his memorial and finally opened in 1864.” (clifton-suspension-bridge.org.uk)

The SS Great Britain trip was good and I recommend it. I understand that the refurbishment was done because of research at Cardiff that showed iron corrosion can be halted if the relative humidity of its surroundings remains less than (about) 20%. The part of the haul normally underwater, obviously badly corroded, is now kept in a dry environment, while the rest is just painted. The need for a dry environment has been used, I think, as an excuse for a glass bottomed pond.

No, seriously the sea of glass does several jobs well: the dry environment; ship looks like its in water; we get to go ‘underwater,’ “hold your nose” you are told.

Here are some more photos:

Special thanks to Hannah for kindly driving us around all day!