From city-pick New York …. to city-pick Cambridge: a call out for Cambridge writing!

Can you recommend any writing that, for you, perfectly sums up Cambridge, past, present or even future?

This is the ‘ask’ from an East of England publisher that’s putting together a special event for the Cambridge Wordfest book festival this spring.

Oxygen Books’ city-pick series features some of the best writing on favourite world cities, from New York, Berlin and Paris to London, Amsterdam, Dublin and Venice and has been called ‘wonderful’ (The Guardian), ‘superb’ (The Times) and ‘sublime’ (The Sydney Morning Herald).

Now the book publisher is working with Cambridge Wordfest and supported by Arts Council England to find the very best writing about one of the UK’s most literary cities.

‘We know there’s a wealth of writing out there about Cambridge,’ says Oxygen’s publisher, Malcolm Burgess. ‘We’d love readers and writers to get in touch with us with their choices, ideally 500 words maximum, whether it’s fiction or non-fiction, and if they can give us reasons for their choices that’s even better. We’d love to see any new writing too about Cambridge. All contributors will be fully acknowledged at our festival event.’

 Oxygen Books will be presenting city-pick Cambridge, an afternoon of Cambridge writing, at the Cambridge Wordfest in April, together with a well-known actor. A city-pick Cambridge pod-cast will also be available.

 Any ideas about Cambridge writing should be sent to malcolm.burgess3@btopenworld.com by February 28 2012. For more information about the city-pick series see www.oxygenbooks.co.uk

The ten best books on Istanbul written by locals

Istanbul, Blue Mosque by Azwegers

From Malcolm Burgess, publisher of Oxygen Books’ city-pick series, featuring some of the best writing on favourite cities, comes a new series for Spotted by Locals on the best city books written by local writers. This one is all about Istanbul!

On winter in Istanbul:

“I have always preferred the winter to the summer in Istanbul. I love the early evenings when autumn is slipping into winter, when the leafless trees are trembling in the north wind and people in black coats and jackets are rushing home through the darkening streets. I love the overwhelming melancholy when I look at the walls of old apartment buildings and the dark surfaces of neglected, unpainted, fallen-down wooden mansions: only in Istanbul have I seen this texture, this shading. When I watch the black-and-white crowds rushing through the darkening streets on a winter’s evening, I feel a deep sense of fellowship, almost as if the night has cloaked our lives, our streets, our every belonging in a blanket of darkness, as if once we’re safe in our houses, our bedrooms, our beds, we can return to dreams of our long-gone riches, our legendary past.”
Orhan Pamuk, Istanbul: Memories of a City (translated by Maureen Freely)

On late spring in Istanbul:

“It was May when Petra called for the second time. The magical Istanbul spring was about to turn abruptly into summer. I would have liked Petra to see Istanbul in spring: to drink tea under the shade of ancient pine trees in the gardens of magnificent Ottoman palaces, to walk along mimosa-scented streets, to shiver in the dampness of the Byzantine underground reservoirs, to light a candle in one of the churches as the muezzin chants the call to prayer, to stretch out in the warm spring sunshine on grass damp with early morning dew looking at the Hippodrome and the Sultan Ahmet fountain, to eat artichokes prepared in olive oil at Hacı Halil Restaurant…”
Esmahan Aykol, Hotel Bosphorus (translated by Ruth Whitehouse)

On foggy Istanbul:

“There was a dense fog outside. And the street lamps were out. The apartment blocks across the way that I was used to seeing from this angle were rendered invisible by the fog and the darkness. I waited in vain for a car to pass through the avenue, finally giving up hope. I knew that Monday nights were the most boring, deadest time of the week in this city. When I opened the window to get some fresh air, my throat was attacked by a cold, smoky darkness that seared my nasal passages. I closed the window. I leaned my legs against the radiator, trying to get warm. But the radiator was quickly growing cold. I couldn’t decide what to do next.”
Murat Gülsoy, ‘Marked in Writing’ (translated by Amy Spangler) in The Book of Istanbul

On the Galata Bridge:

“A poet writing fourteen centuries ago described this city as being surrounded by a garland of waters. Much has changed since then, but modern Istanbul still owes much of its spirit and beauty to the waters which bind and divide it. There is perhaps nowhere else in town where one can appreciate this more than from the Galata Bridge, where all tours of the city should begin. There are other places in Istanbul with more panoramic views, but none where one can better sense the intimacy which this city has with the sea, nor better understand how its maritime situation has influenced its character and its history. So the visitor is advised to stroll to the Galata Bridge for his first view of the city. But you should do your sight-seeing there as do the Stamboullus, seated at a teahouse or café on the lower level of the Bridge, enjoying your keyif over a cup of tea or glass of raki, looking out along the Golden Horn to where it meets the Bosphorous and the Sea of Marmara.”
Hilary Sumner-Boyd and John Freely, Strolling Through Istanbul

On dawn in Istanbul:

“It is almost dawn […]
Apart from the scattered twinkles, it is still densely dark in Istanbul. Whether along the grimy, narrow streets snaking the oldest quarters, in the modern apartment buildings cramming the newly built districts, or throughout the fancy suburbs, people are fast asleep. All but some.
Some Istanbulites have, as usual, awakened earlier than others. The imams all around the city, for instance; the young and the old, the mellow-voiced and the not-so-mellow-voiced, the imams of the copious mosques are the first ones to wake up, ready to call the believers to morning prayer. Then there are the simit vendors. They too are awake, headed to their respective bakeries to pick up the crispy sesame bagels they will be selling all day long. Accordingly, the bakers are awake too. Most of them get only a few hours of sleep before they start work, while others never sleep at night. Every day without exception, the bakers heat their ovens in the middle of the night, so that before dawn, the bakeries in the city are thick with the delicious smell of bread.”
Elif Shafak, The Bastard of Istanbul

On Cardircilar Street:

“Çardırcılar Street was bewildering as always. On the ground before a shop whose grate usually remained shuttered, waiting for who knows what, were a Russian-made samovar spigot, a doorknob, the remnants of a lady’s mother-of-pearl fan so much the fashion thirty years ago, a few random parts belonging perhaps to a largish clock or gramophone, together with some oddities that had ended up here without breaking or crumbling to pieces somehow. A traditional coffee grinder of yellow brass and a cane handle made of deer antler were prominently displayed. Leaning against the shop’s rolling shutter rested two sizable photographs in thick, gilt wooden frames: pictures of Ottoman-era Greek Orthodox patriarchs from the reign of Sultan Abdülhamit II or a little afterward. Their medals, garments, and emblems were identical to those that appeared in the newspapers. From behind well-polished glass, through the vantage of time past, they gazed at the objects spread out before them and at the street crowds temporarily obscuring them at each surge. Perchance they were most pleased by the roar of life sounding so many years later — by the therapy of sun and sound.”
Ahmed Hamdi Tanpınar, A Mind at Peace (translated by Erdağ Göknar)

On evenings in Istanbul:

“I was bewitched, I’m sure, by the slow unfurling splendour of the evening, as the harsh heat of the afternoon dissolved into a golden light, and the sea turned from turquoise to azure to pink and silver. The ferries hissed as they slipped past the pier, the glass windows vibrated with every passing tanker, and the speedboat rocked back and forth, back and forth in the waves every ship and boat, large and small, left in its wake. A breeze started up, bringing with it the smell of fish and roasting corn and chestnuts. The windows of the houses on the Asian shore turned gold with the setting sun.”
Maureen Freely, Enlightenment (2007)

On Altunizade:

“It was still the middle of the night; in a few hours, the streets would be packed with vehicles bound for the Bosphorus Bridge. One of Istanbul’s more fashionable neighbourhoods, Altunizade was home to modern office buildings with glass façades and shiny apartment complexes reserved for the upper crust, all surrounding the grandiose shopping centre, Capitol. The truck passed first by the apartment complexes, then by Capitol, then by the office buildings, before driving through an underpass and emerging at the top of a hill that led down to Üsküdar and the Bosphorus shore.[…]
The avenue was every bit as fascinating now as it had been back then. It was like the crossroads of two civilisations, with police buildings situated like a border control between two different cultures, splitting the avenue almost right down the middle. Below the riot police building was the Gypsy quarter, which was always rowdy with weddings or brawls, while above it stood rows of two-storey houses, each with its own garden, all left behind by the Greeks, all still standing calm and silent amongst the centuries-old plane trees.”
Barış Müstecaplıoğlu, ‘An Extra Body’ in Istanbul Noir (edited and translated by Amy Spangler and Mustafa Ziyalan)

On Muhallebici pudding shops:

“Twenty years ago in Istanbul they were everywhere, and there are still a few around — special little shops with a couple of marble-topped tables and Thonet chairs, not there in the name of fashion, but simply because that was when the place was last refurbished. A white-aproned waiter hastily wipes a table to make room for another customer. In a way these shops are as much a part of Istanbul life as cafes are in Vienna, though the food and the concept are entirely different, and there is not the same panache, of course. These simple shops offer only one specialty: milk puddings. Called muhallebici, they are pudding shops — milk parlours, if you like — and they operate quite separately from restaurants and patisseries. […]
The first mention of the dish as a dessert dates from 1473, when the imperial kitchen accounts of the Ottoman sultan Mehmet the Conqueror record that he and his retinue were served muhallebi. This is the very same dish that we know today. But muhallebi was not always such a simple affair. Medieval Arab cookery books give recipes for a dish of the same name that was a complicated confection of milk, rice, almonds, saffron, and chicken breast or other meat. This bears a striking resemblance to the medieval English blancmanger.”
Berrin Torolsan, ‘The Milky Way’ in Istanbul: The Collected Traveler

On the Bosphorus shore:

“It took place on a suffocating summer day. A Sunday … The smell of grilled meat was wafting in the air as families gathered under the laurels in the park and laughter rose from men drinking beer in the cars parked by the sea. Istanbul people love the streets. When the weather is nice, a flood of people descend to the shores of the Bosphorus as if they had some old account to settle with the city. They turn the area into a fairground, with their fishing lines, picnic baskets
and baby buggies. Seeming to play out old memories of distant homelands by flowing waters, they stretch out wherever they find the smallest patches of grass, or flowers, or in the verdant areas around the ancient city walls. This is why the Istanbul landscape is just an allusion to somewhere else. The joyful mourning of what has been lost is being performed with this site as a backdrop. Those who experience the real city are those who dare to see the city without any allusions. A couple of people who can control their sorrow, who unlike others don’t rely on the eclectic architectural beauty of the Dolmabahçe Palace to cover the sewage smell spreading in fine waves from Dolmabahçe. A noisy, crowded city … “
Sema Kaygusuz, ‘A Couple of People’ (translated by Carol Yürür) in The Book of Istanbul

Titles in Oxygen Books’ city-pick series, featuring some of the best writing on favourite world cities, include Berlin, Paris, London, Amsterdam, Venice, Dublin and New York. www.oxygenbooks.co.uk

www.spottedbylocals.com

Orhan Pamuk (Nobel Prize), Elif Shafak (best-selling writer of The Bastard of Istanbul) … That’s as far as many English readers go in their knowledge of Turkish literature. A few might have heard of Yasha Kemal. It’s the equivalent of thinking that English literature consists of George Orwell, Jeanette Winterson and Julian Barnes.

Working on our Istanbul anthology is proving both a great pleasure and a truly enlightening experience. With the help of our Turkish contacts I am becoming aware of the vast, largely untapped wealth of contemporary Turkish writing. It’s true that a little more is beginning to trickle through to our bookshops, thanks to some excellent and hard-working translators – Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar’s lovely 1949 novel, A Mind at Peace, is now available from Archipelago Books in a 2008 translation by Erdağ Göknar, and Mario Levi’s Istanbul was a Fairytale will, I believe, soon be available from Dalkey Archive Press ... just the very tip of an enormous iceberg. And I was delighted to see Maya Jaggi’s review of Oya Badar’s The Lost Word in the Guardian on 16^th December (read it at http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2011/dec/16/lost-word-oya-baydar-review?commentpage=last#end-of-comments ). Oya Badar is certainly a writer to watch. I have been privileged to read part of her novel Warm Ashes Remain and to thus be reminded that Turkish writers don’t just write about Turkey! This novel, for example, contains some wonderful writing about Paris, especially in the protagonist’s evocation of the city in 1968. As a schoolgirl soixante-huitard myself, I particularly warmed to this section (see below).

     There are signs that Anglophone readers are finally waking up to how much they’re missing by not reading enough work in translation: the recent founding of publishing houses And Other Words and Pereine Press, both dedicated purely to work in translation, along with a number of other initiatives gaining in strength and national profile (such as the Independent Foreign Fiction Prize) are hopeful signs. But come on, readers, clamour for more! – and especially more from Turkey ...
 

From Warm Ashes Remain by Oya Badar

            Autumn in Paris: “Les Feuilles Mortes”, Yves Montand, Brassens, “The Last Time I Saw Paris”, Sartre, “Ne Me Quitter Pas”, “Bonjour Tristesse”, love without restraint, revolution which overflowed from hearts onto the streets, Lautrec posters with black cats, onion soup in Les Vieilles Halles, oysters and white wine, “Forbidden to Forbid” and “The Street Is Beautiful” posters, Marcuse, “One-Dimensional Man”, Marx, Althusser… The banks of the Seine, the boulevards, the parks where the yellow-red autumn leaves whirl around just like in the song. The huge city gives the impression of being one single dry leaf. The rain that pours down suddenly, the famous cafés on Boul-Mich’, on Saint-Germain where one runs to take refuge… When we had money, we usually went to Café de Flore; we used to wait for Sartre and he would come… September in Paris: Les Halles, with its heavy odor of the mixture of fish, oysters, onion soup, flowers, spices, sausages; the Flower Market and its chrysanthemums, dahlias, carnations, white mice, rabbits, birds; the Bateaux Mouches carrying tourists on the Seine; the bouquinistes on the left bank of the river, the clochards under the bridges, gradually becoming more rare and touristic.

                 ‘We used to rummage about, going through the books, papers, etchings and postcards in the stalls of the bouquinistes which lined the two banks of the river, looking as if they had come out of a Paris poster, and we would shout with joy when we found something we had been searching for. The restaurant of Madame Sophie, an Armenian who had migrated from Turkey, had only seven tables and was on a side street off  Saint-Germain. As she placed the food in front of us, she would say “Eat, eat, it’s bon, it’s bon” in Turkish, which she had almost forgotten throughout the years. Candles of different colors stuck in empty wine bottles, covering the bottles drop by drop as they melted… The smell of butter spread into warm, crisp baguettes in the mornings; the fresh croissants bought at the neighborhood bakery opposite our building… Everything that makes Paris what it is; everything that we love in spite of ourselves, and despite all the deterioration, the staleness, the commonness, all that still retains its magic, resists our pseudo-intellectual snubs…’

     She is crossing Saint-Michel on a rainy September day; she is wearing an old, light raincoat. Her hair, her face, her hands are getting wet. She is in no rush to take shelter at the students’ café where she usually meets her friends. She is not bothered by the rain; on the contrary, she wants the raindrops to seep under her skin, all the way to her heart, and to cool the revolt, the grief inside her. She will be leaving this city in a few days. Is it only leaving the city that hurts so much? ‘I was twenty-three, I was in love; I was hopeful about life, hopeless about my love and naturally I was sad.’

            Autumn in Paris: All these, our youth and much more.

city-pick Venice and city - lit Paris- edited by Heather Reyes

Synopsis: Venice has to be the world's most heartstoppingly beautiful and haunting city. For visitors and inhabitants over the centuries it has always been a place rich in history, romance, mystery and intrigue. For writers, artists, filmmakers and others it has been a powerful source of inspiration for their work city-pick Venice brings together over sixty of the very best writers on Venice, whose novels, memoirs, journalism, blogs, diaries and letters wonderfully evoke the past and present of La Serenissima as never before.

From arriving in Venice by sea with Jan Morris and crossing the ominous Bridge of Sighs with Casanova … to getting under the skin of the Biennale with Geoff Dyer and learning about Venice the hard way with Bidisha … from taking a sultry summer gondola ride with Thomas Mann and climbing up to San Marco's horses with Sally Vickers' Miss Garnett … to hearing all about the city from Venetian residents Tiziano Scarpa and novelist and palazzo owner Michelle Lovric, and much, much more … Together with a fascinating introduction to the wealth and range of Venetian writing by Jeff Cotton, creator of the Fictional Cities website.

city-lit Paris
Synopsis: city-lit Paris is the perfect city break guide to la vie parisienne. From Joanne Harris, Julian Barnes, Kate Mosse and Irène Némirovsky to Stephen Clarke, Gertrude Stein, Proust and Claude Izner, over seventy extraordinary writers provide the perfect Paris companion.Introduced by Stephen Clarke, bestselling author of A Year in the Merde.

Both are available from all bookshops or direct from www.oxygenbooks.co.uk p&p free.

Hot Brands Cool Places Verdict
Earlier this year we reviewed city-pick New York and we really liked the approach, so we thought we would include two more in the series.
Each book captures the spirit of the city through writers who have visited, or found inspiration in the city.

Describing Venice: ’Merchants sailing from the Adriatic, through the sea-gate of the Lido, would see rising into view before them a vast glittering expanse of domes, cupolas and towers, jewel-greens, purples and golds, with outlines that shimmered and shifted against the vapour that rose up from the Lagoon. Their astonishment would grow on drawing into the quay of San Marco and finding it not a mirage but real.’ Kay MacCauley, The Man Who Was Loved. (2006)

Describing Paris:‘Most people don’t realize that Paris is more beautiful going into the colder months than at any other time. Under a dignified sky of Dior grey, you can see the ‘bones’ of the city, including its noble architecture, through the brittle branches of the tress. Somehow, the city seems finer, grander, more spectacular. The shimmering cognac shade of the Seine under the morning sun (which changes through the day to a luminous petrol blue, and finally, to a silver the colour of evening slippers at twilight),the grand grey of the famous cobblestone avenues and the fine oyster-shell grey of the buildings combine to give the city an almost gentlemanly feel’ Janelle McCulloch, La Vie Parisienne.

Together with city-pick New York these are a wonderful, imaginative creative take on leading cities, that will be a perfect companion to anyone thinking of visiting, or to bring back memories for anyone who has previously visited. If you are looking for a different gift for someone, or inspiration for your own trip in 2012, these are an absolute joy and delight!. Highly Recommended!

http://www.hotbrandscoolplaces.com/non-fiction-reviews/city-pick-venice-and-city-lit-paris-edited-by-heather-reyes.html

Founder of the Shakespeare and Company bookshop in Paris

George Whitman in 1992. His venture - putting the shop space to any possible literary use - became a stage in every bookish traveller’s education. Photograph: Peter Turnley/Corbis

George Whitman, who has died aged 98, was the proprietor of Shakespeare and Company in Paris, probably the world's most famous bookshop. He took the name from an equally celebrated establishment, from which James Joyce's novel Ulysses had been published in 1922.

The original Shakespeare and Company, run by Sylvia Beach on Rue de l'Odéon, had closed during the second world war. Whitman opened his first shop in 1951 under a different title, renaming it Shakespeare and Company 13 years later, shortly after Beach's death. When his only daughter was born in 1981, he named her Sylvia Beach Whitman after his bookselling predecessor. By this time the venture was a celebrated centre of English literature beyond the English-speaking world.

Born in East Orange, New Jersey, Whitman moved as a child to Salem, Massachusetts. With his father, a prominent physicist, he spent a year in China as a boy and later travelled extensively in South and Central America, on one occasion becoming lost in a Mexican jungle and being cared for by its inhabitants. He attended several universities, including Boston, where he studied journalism, and the Sorbonne in Paris, where he took classes in French language.

Whitman first came to France as a medical warrant officer in the US army after the second world war. Wishing to dedicate his energies to literature, but realising that he did not have the writer's calling, he opened a makeshift library in 1948, operating out of a cheap hotel on Boulevard St Michel. The stock consisted mainly of English and French books picked up from students or discard shelves at the Sorbonne. Among the visitors to this early incarnation of what would develop into Shakespeare and Company was the American poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti. He remembered "George seated in an armchair in the middle of his tiny room in this third-rate hotel. Books were piled from floor to ceiling on all four sides."

Shakespeare and Company bookshop in Paris, 2008. Photograph: Alamy

In 1951, using money from an inheritance, Whitman bought an ancient building at 37 Rue de la Bûcherie, facing Notre Dame cathedral. What had once been an Arab grocery store now became Whitman's first bookshop, Le Mistral – he claimed it was named after his first love, but visitors might have assumed a connection with the French poet Frédéric Mistral – comprising a regular shop for those who could afford to buy books and a lending library for those who could not.

Sylvia Beach had operated a similar dual-purpose establishment, one of the advantages of which was to draw not only customers but a community of like-minded folk. Whitman's bookshop became a meeting place, a tearoom, a salon for soirees and poetry readings, a matchmaking centre, and – not the least of its functions – a stage in every bookish traveller's education.

His premises were larger than those of the original Shakespeare and Company, and he opened a reading room on the first floor, with a view of the cathedral. In fact, the entire shop became a reading room, and while Whitman mixed new and used books, the new stock quickly came to look well-used too. Everyone loved Shakespeare and Company, but not all publishers' reps loved its proprietor.

By the mid-1950s, a thriving Anglophone literary scene had developed in Paris. George Plimpton, Peter Matthiessen and others ran the Paris Review. Its closest rival was Merlin, overseen by the Scottish novelist Alexander Trocchi, with help from the poet Christopher Logue and the future publisher at Grove Press, Richard Seaver. All mingled at Le Mistral. Richard Wright and James Baldwin read from their works in progress. Among many others who signed books or photographs were Allen Ginsberg, Lawrence Durrell, Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin.

It was probably at Le Mistral that William Burroughs's Naked Lunch was first tasted in public. "No one was sure whether to laugh or to be sick," Whitman said later about the apocalyptic sexual feast which at that time – in 1958 – could not be published in Britain or America.

It was eventually taken on by the Olympia Press, which, like Whitman's bookshop, was a supporting pillar of the Left Bank English-language literary scene. Whitman was never a crusader against censorship, however, and refused to stock the majority of Olympia titles, fearing a visit from the French vice squad.

It was slightly more than 20 years after Beach had closed her doors, in fear of German retaliation following her slighting of an SS officer, that Le Mistral became the second Shakespeare and Company. In addition to its other facilities, there was soon to be a writer's room for literary lodgers on the third floor.

I stayed there in 1991, while researching a book about Anglophone literary life. At about 10 in the morning, when I was barely out of bed, Whitman would burst in and plonk down a mug of thick sweetened coffee and a plate of pancakes, urging me to get down to work.

I would be failing to give a full picture if I left out the bugs that shared the bed, but it was in a wonderful location, it was great fun, and it was free. In a typical gesture, Whitman told me to search through the 1950s periodicals piled on the stairs and to take anything of which there was more than one copy.

The distinctive yellow front, with its Shakespeare's head sign and books in barrows outside, was always a warming sight as you made your way along the Seine. And it will continue to be so. Sylvia Beach Whitman has given the place some repair and polish, without altering its character.

Ferlinghetti was so inspired by Whitman's example in the early 1950s that he opened his own shop in San Francisco, City Lights Books, run on similar lines. However, there is only one Shakespeare and Company. Rather, there have been two, each as life-enhancing as the other.

In 2006 Whitman was appointed Officier dans l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by the French government for his contribution to the arts in France. He is survived by his daughter.

• George Whitman, bookseller, born 12 December 1913; died 14 December 2011

www.theguardian.co.uk

 

‘The hubbub of clamouring voices covers the history of the city, the difference between the five boroughs, the architecture, the famous inhabitants, the experience of living in NYC and more. It’s an intriguing prospect, and the multitude of subjects and viewpoints gives a good impression of the heterogeneity and bustle of the great metropolis, and succeeds in painting it as a unique and thrilling place’ The Irish Times

From the best books and places to visit to cafés and events and courses, Malcolm Burgess helps you make the very most of the literary city.

Classic books on London: Virginia Woolf, Mrs Dalloway, Charles Dickens Bleak House, Arthur Conan Doyle, The Return of Sherlock Holmes, Norman Collins, London Belongs to Me, Colin McInnes, Absolute Beginners, Virginia Woolf, The London Scene, Sam Selvon, The Lonely Londoners, John Evelyn, Diary, Samuel Pepys Diary

Recent recommended books: Monica Ali, Brick Lane, Xiaolu Guo, A Concise Chinese-English Dictionary for Lovers, Sukdhev Sandu, Night Haunts, Gillian Tindall, The House by the Thames, Rachel Lichtenstein, On Brick Lane, David Szalay, London and the South-East, Clare Clark, The Great Stink, Will Self, The Book of Dave.

Favourite literary landmarks:

Keats House, Hampstead The beautiful Regency home where the Romantic poet lived and wrote from 1818 – 20. Now a thriving museum about Keats’ life and work with related exhibitions, events and walks, plus a delightful Keats-themed garden. www.keatshousecityoflondon.gov.uk

Shakespeare’s Globe, Southwark Built close to the site of the original Thames-side Globe Theatre where many of Shakespeare’s most famous plays were first performed. Productions from Shakespeare and his contemporaries and modern playwrights from April to October with a year-round exhibition and tour. www.shakespearesglobe.com

Dr Johnson’s House, Fleet Street The wonderful Georgian home of Samuel Johnson from 1748-1759, where he compiled the first English Dictionary. Restored to its original design and full of writer memorabilia, with related literary and artistic exhibitions and events. www.drjohnsonshouse.org

Charles Dickens Museum, Holborn Dickens only surviving London home, where he lived from 1837 – 1839 holds the world’s most important collection of his rare editions, manuscripts, paintings and furniture. Special exhibitions throughout the year – 2012 is the 200^th anniversary of Charles Dickens’ birth.

www.dickensmuseum.com www.dickens2012.org

William Morris Gallery, Walthamstow Writer, designer, political campaigner and founder of the Arts and Crafts movement, William Morris lived at the family home Water House from 1848 – 1856. Re-opening in July 2012 it contains an outstanding collection of textiles, wallpapers, ceramics, furniture, stained glass, books and fine arts. www.walthamforest.gov.uk/william-morris

The Sherlock Holmes Museum, Baker Street Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson lived at 221b Baker Street which is now a museum dedicated to the Victorian detectives. Includes a re-creation of the famous first floor study, life-size wax works and other visitor attractions.

www.sherlock-holmes.co.uk

Poets’ Corner, Westminster Abbey Nearly every famous writer in English Literature is either buried or commemorated in Westminster Abbey. Geoffrey Chaucer, John Dryden, Charles Dickens and Thomas Hardy are some of the writers buried here while memorials include those to Shakespeare, Emily Bronte, Henry James and John Betjeman.www.westminster-abbey.org

Carlyle’s House, Chelsea Thomas Carlyle was one of the nineteenth century’s best known historians and philosophers and lived with his wife Jane in this fine 1708 Queen Anne terraced house from 1834 – 1881 in an area rich with literary associations. Left very much as it was during Carlyle’s lifetime, it contains a wide range of books, pictures, furniture and personal possessions.

www.nationaltrust.org.uk/carlyleshouse

The British Library, St Pancras The national library of the UK has a collection of over 14 million books and moved into its impressive modern building in 1997. Fascinating themed exhibitions – currently on illustrated manuscripts – and displays. The Sir John Ritlbat Gallery has a permanent exhibition of books and manuscripts from Beowulf and The Canterbury Tales to the Magna Carta and Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. www.bl.uk

The Freud Museum, Camden The London family home of Sigmund Freud and later his daughter Anna following their exile from Austria in 1938. Contains a brilliant collection of Freud memorabilia, antiquities and furniture, together with exhibitions, and includes Freud’s study and sofa, the scene of his most famous psycho-analytic investigations. www.freud.org.uk

Best bookshops:

London Review of Books Bookshop, 14 Bury Place, WC1A2JL www.lrbshop.co.uk

Foyles Bookshop, 113-119 Charing Cross Road, WC2H OEB, St Pancras International, Euston Road, N1C4QL, Festival Hall, South Bank SE1 8XX, Westfield White City, W12 7GE, Westfield Stratford City, E20 1EH www.foyles.co.uk

Waterstone’s Piccadilly, 203 – 206 Piccadilly, W1J9LE The largest bookshop in Europe!

Daunt Books, 83 Marylebone High Street, W1U 4QW, 158 – 164 Fulham Road, SW109PR, 112-114 Holland Park Avenue, W11 4VA, 51 South End Road, NW3 2QB, 193 Haverstock Hill, NW3 4QL, 61 Cheapside EC2U 6AX

Check these out for regular readings too.

Nicest literary cafes:

London Review of Books Bookshop Cafe, 14 Bury Place, WC1A2JL www.lrbshop.co.uk

Foyles Bookshop Ray’s Cafe, 113-119 Charing Cross Road, WC2H OEB, www.foyles.co.uk

The Poetry Café, 22 Betterton Street, Wc2H 9BX www.poetrysociety.org.uk/content/cafe

Inspiring literary walks: www.walks.com Literary Bloomsbury and the Old Museum Quarter, Shakespeare’s and Dickens’s London

Useful apps: Get London Reading - wherever you are in London find out a book that’s set there - and Literary London. Both available on iTunes (Get London Reading is free)

Most interesting websites and blogs: www.londonfictions.com , www.fictionalcities.co.uk passionate enthusiasts on London writing. www.spreadtheword.org.uk for up-to-date London writing news and resources

 Live events and festivals:

• South Bank Centre, Riverside www.southbankcentre.co.uk includes the summer’s London Literature Festival
• The Poetry Café, 22 Betterton Street, WC2H 9BX. Regular poetry readings www.poetrysociety.org.uk/content/cafe
• The Free Word Centre, 60 Farringdon Road, EC1R 3GA Focuses on translated writing www.freewordonline.com

 Many bookshops and libraries also hold events throughout the year. For the latest literary listings information  www.timeout.com/london (click books and poetry)

 Short writing courses and workshops:

• Faber Academy Writing Courses with visiting writer tutors www.faber.co.uk
• Urban Arvon summer three day course in association with Birkbeck College www.arvonfoundation.org
• Groucho Club, Soho week long summer workshop, plus other longer courses www.writingcourses.org.uk
• City Lit weekend creative writing courses www.citylit.ac.uk

 Also available in this series: Reading the City: Paris

Malcolm Burgess is the publisher of Oxygen Books’ city-lit London (£8.99, paperback) www.oxygenbooks.co.uk