Józef Ignacy Kraszewski

On Monday a visit to the bookshop, new and second hand, at the western end of Ryde High Street. It seemed fuller than ever, with an extensive second hand section in the upper floors, including an extensive fiction section, helpfully arranged alphabetically by author, an arrangement which was a little surprising given the piles of books piled up all over the place. One could buy, for example, a collected edition of Georgette Heyer, in shiny red covers with pictures on the fronts, running to what looked thirty or more volumes; a visually louder version of our own collected Christie from Heron Books. However, we don't do Heyer so I did not investigate the price. But I did come across 'The Jew', translated from the Polish of Kraszewski, with the book written in 1865 and this translation published by Heinemane in 1893. I thought it a little steep at £9.50 but the chap does have to pay his rent and I had had a good look around. Chosen in preference to the alternative, something from the selection of novels by Upton Sinclair, from the middle of the last century, at least one of which still had a dust jacket. Not including 'The Jungle', this last being the only Sinclair novel which I recall reading. I may still own my Penguin edition.

I find now that Kraszewski was a very prolific Polish author of the second half of the nineteenth century, with hundreds of books to his name - but someone of whom I had not previously heard. A Dickens of the (complicated) Polish scene. Not got very far so far, but current thinking is that the historical interest will probably carry me over the rather stolid translation, if for no other reason than that the presentation of the Jew of the title will be interesting in the light of what happened in the century following.

We also paid a visit to the Catholic church opposite the bookshop, a little dark and dank but interesting, notwithstanding. Struck by the sanctuary light in the lady chapel being unlit; I had thought that they were kept lit in perpetuity - and checking this morning I find that God did indeed tell Moses that a lamp filled with the pure oil should perpetually burn in the tabernacle (Ex 27:20-21; see illustration above).

An interesting tea & cake in the Bottega Bar in Union Street, a place which was once a shopping arcade and now has a very florid entrance, complete with fancy plasterwork and walls painted with scenes from Alice in Wonderland. Fancy furniture of the sort liked by the Greeks of Green Lanes in North London. Cocktails for when you tire of tea. Waitresses to match the setting. See reference 1.

There also seemed to be a connection with the globe maker of reference 2 and there was even talk of orreries. Further investigation clearly needed.

A very pleasant lunch at the Michelangelo's of reference 3 at the bottom of Union Street. Decent bread, followed by an excellent lasagne, followed by an apple tart. Some sort of Italian white wine - not quite greco but grec-something - followed by a fortified Sicilian wine to go with the tart. Followed by walk along the esplanade, followed by train back to Brading. Only comment on this last - implemented by rolling stock lately of the drain running between Waterloo and the Bank in London - would be that you can get well shaken about and that a firm hold or a firm seat is advisable.

Reference 1: http://www.bottegabar.co.uk/.

Reference 2: http://globemakers.com/.

Reference 3: http://www.ristorantemichelangelo.co.uk/.