Heron and Hoare, A Monstrous Pair – 25 April 2025

Were I to descend to the depths of Dante’s Inferno or to find myself in Milton’s wild Eden, were I to travel in time to the Library of Alexandria when it was at its most well-stocked and revered (i.e. pre-Julius Caesar accidentally setting fire to it – seriously Julius, smoke outside), were I merely to pop to Tate Britain, I should like Philip Hoare to be my guide.

Not because I think he would know the way through these places, any more than I. Judging by his exceptional writing, he does not move linearly or chronologically. I just think he would know everyone we met. He would pull a scroll off a shelf in the Library and sprint with it through the Tate (carefully) ripping paintings from the wall, whisk you to a cave, probably by the coast, probably one likely to be cut off at high tide, and there have assembled Ovid, Wollstonecraft, Melville, several Rossettis, Oscar Wilde, Virginia Woolf, Paul Nash, Iris Murdoch, Johnny Cash, Derek Jarman… And all of this will combine to make every person, their conversation and their artwork the greater for at the heart of it all, William and Kate – that’s William Blake and his wife Catherine – will raise toasts to new forms of art and set everyone aglow with their magnificent, blazing intellect.   

I don’t think I get carried away.

If I do, let us hope that it is with Philip Hoare and that we take to the sea to see colossal, slimy sea creatures: whales among them but also things I thought fictional until Blake defused such naïve boundaries as real and not. I reckon Patti Smith will come too.

William Blake and the Sea Monsters of Love, which has me immersed in watery depths and illuminated heavens, is as chaotic as a book about a genius and his influence on so many others should be.

It is pandæmonium. It is cacophonous. I love it.  

As Hoare writes of Blake, ‘I’m glad I found him after all this time. He was worth waiting for.’ It is impossible not to feel the same. ‘No wonder he saw angels spangling the trees of Peckham Rye as vividly as he saw human beings walking along Piccadilly.’

Once you are in the mood for monsters you may wish to remonstrate with a few more…

In Monsterland: A Journey Around the World’s Dark Imagination, Nicholas Jubber goes monster-hunting. He searches for the stories, their origins and the reasons behind those origins, of the wild, the shapeshifting, the undead and the modern monsters of science fiction and science. He finds ogres, leviathans and vampires. If ever I meet Philip Hoare, I shall invite him to accompany Nicholas and me to a werewolf contest…

If you think fiction less scary or at least less real, may I present you with the counter-argument: North American Lake Monsters by Nathan Ballingrud. In this short story collection, big teeth and a full moon are the least of your worries; every character could unleash a beast. Although not every character drives around with a boot full of different human skins to try on. So perhaps some are worse than others…

Are You a Hungry Monster? is not a question I recommend asking after reading Ballingrud. But Guilherme Karsten is braver than me and in this aromatic picture book a monster offers you, whom he considers a worthy comrade, the most extraordinary meal. Earwax burger, anyone?

Having cleaned the slimy, blobby, monstrosities from our window which celebrated Huw Aaron’s, Sleep Tight, Disgusting Blob, I have felt bereft. Bereft, if covered in green paint. Fortunately epistolary monsters as well as hungry ones have been on hand to entertain. Letters to a Monster by Patricia Forde and Sarah Warburton is worthy of Blake in originality. A little girl writes to the monster under her bed. The monster obligingly writes back explaining that he is not there. You won’t see the twist coming. Or the slugs.

Those not quite ready to board a ship with Ishmael, Patti Smith and Philip Hoare must choose their own adventure. In Journey Under the Sea by R. A. Montgomery you are a deep-sea explorer searching for Atlantis. If you find it, should you stay or should you go? There are 42 possible endings; are you in control of your fate? These new editions of classic Choose Your Own Adventure novels are very fine indeed, brilliant for keen explorers and reluctant readers.

Upcoming monstra – all welcome though werewolves will be asked to hang up their pelts at the door and giants risk hitting their heads on the chandelier:

On Sunday 27^th April we look forward to supporting a tribute to Benjamin Zephaniah at St Geroge’s, organised by Lyra Festival. Copies of many of his books including the new selected poems and lyrics, Dis Poetry,will be available.

On Saturday 10^th May, Franny Moyle will be in the shop from 11-12 for a signing and to answer any questions you may have about Hans Holbein. Next to piles of the stunning new edition of The King’s Painter there will also be stacks of flapjacks from East Village Café. The perfect marriage, I’m sure Holbein’s subject, Henry VIII, would agree.

There are more events listed here and book club plans here. We look forward to seeing you soon. Apologies if I have flapjack in my teeth. It is hard to check when one has no reflection…

May your weekend be chaotic, beset by excitement about art, literature and leviathans,
Lizzie