The web page of the Albion Beatnik Bookstore in Oxford: muses and misspills on books, jazz, poetry, stuff like false flags and smoke screen: is randomly decrepid and is neo-bankrupt: is so analogue it's anal.
ALBION is an old word for England; BEATNIK is an American slang and constructed word for AN ATTITUDE OF MIND, introduced by JACK KEROUAC in 1948 (he claimed from the word ‘beatific’). The shop stocks twentieth century English and American novels and poetry, also jazz; and a range of second-hand books.
Here is a desultory listing of some second-hand literary criticism & biography in the basement of the shop (this is only a small fraction of what stock is available).
The second issue of the shop magazine, The Sandspout, is now available. 162pp, £3. Articles on Harold Pinter, William Blake, David Jones, Muhammad Ali & Miles Davis; an interview with Matthew Shipp; a short story by Baret Magarian, an extract from Yvonne Eller’s novel, flash fiction; poetry from Andrew McNeillie and John Lanyon; much else. Writing by Heathcote Williams, Sally Bayley and others. Submissions for the next issue (March 2017) gladly accepted, no criteria to be met other than an association with the shop, no requirement for length. Further details…
A free selfie can be taken in the reflection of the appropriately glossy and mirror-like cover of the novella published last week by the Albion Beatnik: Baret Magarian’s Mirror and Silhouette, launched with a reading here. Baret lives in Florence. His first full length novel – much praised by Jonathan Coe – The Fabrications, is to be published in the U.S. early next year. Mirror and Silhouette is £4 only, a brilliant read. Further details…
It’s thrilling that the Poltergeist Theatre Group will be performing Bulgakov’s The White Guard in the Beatnik in February, a five night run, an audience of twenty each evening, a new adaption, a promenade performance, will be very exciting, especially all those bayonets (a few like it up ’em) and the vodka. The shop had a three night run of a one act play set in a bookshop (!) in 2011 (Bookends by David O’Hara – skilfully written but directed by a spanner), some curiosities with theatrical flair, and a one-off and engaging performance of a Shakespeare play three years ago, its exits and entrances dazzled like snooker balls careering on a snooker table. Have searched ever since for live theatre.
Top shop dog Arthur has been disappointed: he learnt recently that Brexit is right wing claptrap (poor Roger Scruton to be described thus) and not, as he had hoped, a new brand of digestive biscuit. This follows on from his recent disgrace as an imperfect lover, his use of cowsplat as deodorant, and his audition for a remake of the last scene of Casablanca. Arthur had already survived a threat of eviction.
The wonderful David Leake, a fierce supporter of the book, bookshops in general, and the Beatnik in particular. His wonderful (small) garden at Corpus Christi teems with life (and is, alongside Lady Margaret Hall, the finest garden in Oxford). It’s an oasis of individuality and organic calm (as it should be, nature wins always) amidst weedkiller and the Bursar’s whimsical edict. Too many bursar’s in life, fat bully boys masquerading as Billy Bunter (who, if you didn’t know, was inspired by the figure representing Obadiah in the stained glass of New College antechapel, a little bit podgy because the glazier in 1382 ran out of the appropriate sepulchre glass).
This month’s FEATURED TITLE Bernard O’Donoghue’s wonderful new collection, The Seasons of Cullen Church, not long published, is lyrical, observant, elegiac, beautiful so often, riddled with memories of his childhood in Cork. In ‘Connolly’s Bookshop’ he writes uncomfortably of an established shop in decline (the bookshop did indeed close), noticing how the stock has shrunk until “bit by bit you’re marooned in the middle // on your high stool amongst the books that show // why books are out of date, why you must move // with the times and be careful what you stock, // defiant Crusoe at the centre of your island.” Am not sure of the Crusoe analogy, but the shop is careful enough to stock this book, £12.99, a handsome hardback (I don’t often speak well of Faber as publishers). If, like Friday, you have sown gold coins in the hope of a bumper harvest, you could call buy to by a copy.
Also published earlier this year by Faber is Jamie McKendrick’s Selected Poems, in stock also at £12.99, a bargain at 150pp. Focused and well crafted, these poems chisel detail yet suggest the grand and daring, the out of reach, and McKendrick so often is searching for sky nails “that will nail anything // to nothing // and make it stay.” He is an antidote at times to O’Donoghue’s fondness and nostalgia. His Hopperesque poem ‘&‘ tells of two lovers ill at ease and whose song seemingly has been sung, the one starched and arched, refusing “to slump in a heap or sleep in a hump”, the other prim and “with a shield of books and a chewed biro”; their argument unwinds the ampersand, once attaching two nouns, so that it can now be pulled asunder like a cracker; meanwhile their two cats are “love-locked in a tricky double helix”. Bernard in ‘The Thaw‘ posits the healing in a relationship, the once “moon-hard glistening” now no better than a “yielding slush”; yet “packed in ice, we can retain whatever // it was we once must have meant by love // and the kind frost that stopped it going off.”
I have recently been setting out the Back Room Poet’s anthology Infinite Riches In A Little Room, available from 10th October, published by the Albion Beatnik Press. Am amazed at the addiction local poets have to hyphens, and to little poetic effect. (Compound-adjectives my arse: hyphen-junkies more like.) In October the Albion Beatnik will publish also Humphrey Astley’s poetry pamphlet The Gallows-Humored Melody and, in November, Peter J. King’s collection All What Larkin. In Michaelmas term the yearly compendium edit of Oxford University Poetry Society’s Ash magazine will be published, and it will include a raft of new poems as well as the previous two volumes. The next issue of the shop magazine The Sandspout will be on Saturday, 19th November.
For Oxford Arts Week we hosted an exhibition by local artist Stella Shakerchi entitled 50 Shades of Re(a)d, subtitled an attempt to curate a vital book collection. Stella exhibited here before four years ago. An accompanying book has been published, and the paintings will remain here for sale: sale proceeds will go to the charity Humane Society International, which works on animal protection issues
David Attwooll’s last poetry pamphlet was Otmoor. A sequence of ten poems echo tales of the local moor’s past and present and evoke its myths and buried memories. The poetry is a call and response to Andrew Walton’s mud-filled yet warm and playful paintings of this area of wetland, described forbiddingly as a “place apart”. The pamphlet is beautifully produced, its font, layout, brittle binding, all of a piece, each enrich the experience of its reading. The poetry and the cross-hatched landscape sketches dovetail to produce a remarkable and collaborative achievement, also a lodestar of poetry publishing, and so soon after their previous venture, Ground Work, which depicted Port Meadow. I suggest all poetry lovers locally should buy a copy: this is the most impressive poetry book I have handled, it is worth every penny (and more) of its £6 sale price.
VIDEOS >> Two clips from the Beatnik. Firstly, guitarists John Etheridge and Pete Oxley in the shop recently, paying homage to Grant Green, and a concluding extract from violinist Chris Garrick and pianist Dave Gordon‘s concert here in April, Stevie Wonder’s Isn’t She Lovely.
HOMILY >> The Albion Beatnik Bookstore is an independent and enthusiastic bookshop in Jericho, Oxford, opened in 2008. It sells new and second-hand books, including twentieth century literature, poetry and jazz. It has a cafe with over 70 speciality teas and cake, and it hosts reading and writing groups, many evening events, including poetry, book launches, talks, and jazz and folk concerts. The shop has a no petting, diving or bombing policy (unless with the owner). And if you are genuine and enthusiastic, you are always welcome.