A LLAP Cover Gallery, And The Best Leonard Nimoy Interview You'll Ever See

As a youth, long before I had ever heard the term 'cosplay', I once haphazardly sewed strips of gold material around the cuffs and and onto the chest of my best blue polo neck sweater, because I thought it would make me look more like Mr Spock. (It didn't.)

The very fact that I wanted to be like Spock, rather than Kirk, is thanks to Gene Roddenberry for envisaging a character that geeks could aspire to be, but even more thanks to Leonard Nimoy for embodying that character, and making him by far the coolest person on the bridge of the USS Enterprise.

Nimoy's recent death wasn't a surprise to fans who had been following his health problems for several years, but the shock and sense of loss at his passing was nevertheless remarkable, and a testament to the impact he made both as an iconic character, and from all accounts, as a thoroughly nice bloke.

My favourite story to sum up the man came from Quint over at Ain't It Cool News:

I do want to leave off sharing an anecdote that I'm not sure even Mr. Nimoy was aware of. I was told a story once about the early days of the Star Trek reboot. Before they solidified the script Abrams and team knew that they needed a bridge from the last series to this one. They toyed with Spock, they toyed with Kirk and they even toyed with both together.

Remember for a long time Nimoy wanted to seperate himself from the character, so they decided they'd approach them both and see who showed interest and make their decision on which way to go from there. They went to Shatner first and told him the story and how they were thinking about doing it. His reaction was that he'd come back, but only if it was Kirk without Spock.

Then they went to Nimoy, told him the story and how Spock would fit in if he agreed. He loved it and said he would do it. He only had one question: "Do you think you could find a place in it for my friend Bill?"

I never met Nimoy or saw him at a convention (though I did book him as guest onto The Big Breakfast once), but I can't imagine that there was ever a better career overview interview with him than the hugely extensive one conducted a few years ago by the Television Academy Foundation. Put it this way, you're over an hour in before he even starts talking about Star Trek.

You can see it HERE and I can't recommend it highly enough. There's a real treasure trove of similar interviews with TV actors and producers on this site, including ones with pretty much all the rest of the surviving Star Trek cast.

One little factoid Nimoy reveals which I'd never heard before: when NBC launched the series back in 1966, the marketing department feared that Spock's 'Satanic' look would put off stations in the Bible Belt, so promotional material airbrushed photos of Nimoy to straighten out his eyebrows and take the points off his ears...

Marketing people, eh? I'm with Bill Hicks.

Spock almost instantly became Star Trek's poster boy (much to the chagrin of one William Shatner, who thought he was the star) and since then Nimoy's face has appeared on the cover of hundreds if not thousands of publications. Here's a few which caught my eye googling around, including covers for various editions (and a nice fan-designed variant) of Nimoy's two volumes of autobiography, the confusingly titled I Am Not Spock and I Am Spock...

Biggles Gets A Bastard Behind the Eyes

Blog's a bit late this week... mainly due to Sunday being a bit of a washout after a Saturday night lock-in at the Robin Hood, which featured a near-encounter with the local darts legend The Phantom Arrow (it's a very long story).

Anyway, Sunday was given over to a Bastard Behind the Eyes, hence no blogging.

To make up for that, here's some jolly nice pictures of Biggles, from a pile of his adventures which has just arrived in the Little Shop. Nothing to excite the hardcore collector I fear, but lots of reading for those that like that sort of thing. The copy of Biggles Takes a Holiday is a 1949 first edition, but it's seen better days. Some bluff cove has even seen fit to stub out his cigar on page 87, leaving a ruddy great burnt hole into page 88.

The illustrations (by 'Stead', aka Leslie Leonard Stead) are rather spiffing though.

This has always been my favourite bit of Biggles though...

I was delighted to discover that thanks to dedicated fan Roger Harris, the original artwork the Biggles figure was copied from for the above now resides chez Palin...

2015 Withnail at Uncle Monty's Dates Announced! Plus, Queen Victoria RIP...

Danny and Monty together again for the first time! Photo from Picnic Cinema.

The news just in: Picnic Cinema have announced their dates for the insanely popular annual screenings of a certain film in a certain place: Withnail and I will be shown at Crow Crag, aka Sleddale Hall in Cumbria, on Friday 26 and Saturday 27 June 2015. The tickets will go on sale soon (just 100 for each night), and the best (only?) way to give yourself a chance of nabbing one is to sign up of Picnic Cinema's email notification list here. You can have a look at what it was like to attend this wonderful event last year here. It's highly recommended.

Changing the subject entirely, collectors of rare Victoriana might want to have a look at a rather lovely, and beautifully preserved Queen Victoria In Memoriam morocco leather bound (and boxed) Book of Common Prayer Withnail Books currently has on eBay (just click the link top right on this page to see this and a few other select goodies currently for sale).

Here are some photos, with more blurb below for those who fancy making an offer (and while it is a hefty asking price, do feel free to make an offer if it's up your alley... the worse that will happen is that I'll say no!)

Copies of this beautiful Queen Victoria memorial edition of The Book of Common Prayer, with Hymns Ancient and Modern very rarely come up for sale. One of the few references to another, long-sold copy online is here.

This is hand-numbered copy 131 from the 500 copy De Luxe edition, and is in remarkable condition.

The original outer presentation box (16 x 12 x 5.5cm) has a bit of sun fade and a cracked corner, but the baize-lined interior  is still doing its job of protecting the fitted leather case inside. The case has a few light marks, but is overall in very good+ condition. The solid silver button clasp is datemarked for Birmingham 1900, and was made by Charles Penny Brown. The interior is lined in cream moiré silk. The book inside is in, I hesitate to say it, near fine condition: it looks to have been barely handled. There are a couple of very light marks to the upper board, only noticeable if you really look for them, but as with the case, it's difficult to tell if this is actually a 'mark', or just variations in the original leather colour. The gilt page edges are still bright (a rather lovely detail is how the page edges are twin-toned, and turn to Royal Purple when looked at edge on). The book has gilt interior board edges and silk endpapers, and two silk page markers.

The title pages to the various sections read:
Special Forms of Service in Commemoration of Her Late Majesty Queen Victoria of Blessed and Glorious Memory.
To Be Used in All Churches and Chapels in England and Wales and in the Town of Berwick-Upon-Tweed.
Either on the Day of the Funeral, or on the most convenient Day within the Octave.
The Book of Common Prayer and Administration of The Sacraments, and Other Rites and Ceremonies of the Church, According to the Use of The Church of England; Together With The Psalter or Psalms of David,… And The Form and Manner of Making, Ordaining and Consecrating of Bishops, Priests, And Deacons
 Hymns Acient and Modern For The Use in The Services of the Church.
Complete Edition.

Read that Lost Sherlock Holmes Story, And Why It's Not Really Sherlock Holmes At All...

What a treat to wake up to the news that a previously lost, and indeed unrecorded Sherlock Holmes story has been rediscovered. Yesterday The Scotsman had the news, which has since gone worldwide, but I've yet to see much discussion of its actual content.

Whether or not it's actually written by Conan Doyle himself (and there's no way we're ever going to know definitively, but the evidence would suggest it probably is from his hand), what is clear is that this new 'Sherlock Holmes story' isn't really a story... and it doesn't feature Sherlock Holmes.

Well, not the 'real' Sherlock Holmes, anyway. The 'author' of the piece – an unnamed journalist on a deadline, not John Watson – freely admits that his 'interview' with Sherlock Holmes comes via 'The Faculty of Imagination'. Even without this admission, the fact that this Holmes is an imposter is abundantly clear from the several errors the careless 'author' makes.

It would need a finer Holmesian than I to identify them all, but for starters:

This Holmes, apparently, lives in Sloan Street. He owns a complete set of Macaulay's works, quotes The Lays of Ancient Rome, and often discusses politics and 'the fiscal question' with Watson.

This is surely not the inhabitant of 221B Baker Street described by his faithful Boswell as having:

Knowledge of Literature: Nil

Knowledge of Politics: Feeble

I think these fun 'easter eggs' for the keen Holmes fan to spot adds to the evidence that Doyle himself was indeed the author. There's actually lots of references, both Holmesian and political, for Doyle biographers to get their collective teeth into here. The game is afoot...

It's a fun piece in its own right though, so here it is in its entirety:

'Sherlock Holmes: Discovering the Border Burghs and, by deduction, the Brig Bazaar'

'We've had enough of old romancists and the men of travel, said the Editor, as he blue-pencilled his copy, and made arrangements for the great Saturday edition of the Bazaar Book. 'We want something up-to-date. Why not have a word from "Sherlock Holmes"?'

Editors have only to speak and it is done, at least, they think so. 'Sherlock Holmes!' As well talk of interviewing the Man in the Moon. But it does not do to tell Editors all that you think. I had no objections whatever, I assured the Editor, to buttonhole 'Sherlock Holmes,' but to do so I should have to go to London.

'London!' scornfully sniffed the Great Man. 'And you profess to be a journalist? Have you never heard of the telegraph, the telephone, or the phonograph? Go to London! And are you not aware that all journalists are supposed to be qualified members of the Institute of Fiction, and to be qualified to make use of the Faculty of Imagination? By the use of the latter men have been interviewed, who were hundreds of miles away; some have been "interviewed" without either knowledge or consent. See that you have a topical article ready for the press for Saturday. Good day'.'

I was dismissed and had to find copy by hook or by crook. Well, the Faculty of Imagination might be worth a trial.

The familiar house in Sloan Street met my bewildered gaze. The door was shut, the blinds drawn. I entered; doors are no barrier to one who uses the Faculty of Imagination. The soft light from an electric bulb flooded the room. 'Sherlock Holmes' sits by the side of the table; Dr Watson is on his feet about to leave for the night. Sherlock Holmes, as has lately been shown by a prominent journal, is a pronounced Free Trader. Dr Watson is a mild Protectionist, who would take his gruelling behind a Martello tower, as Lord Goschen wittily put it, but not 'lying down!' The twain had just finished a stiff argument on Fiscal policy. Holmes loq,-

'And when shall I see you again, Watson? The inquiry into the "Mysteries of the Secret Cabinet" will be continued in Edinburgh on Saturday. Do you mind a run down to Scotland? You would get some capital data which you might turn to good account later.'

'I am very sorry,' replied Dr Watson, 'I should have liked to have gone with you, but a prior engagement prevents me. I will, however, have the pleasure of being in kindly Scottish company that day. I, also, am going to Scotland.'

'Ah! Then you are going to the Border country at that time?'

'How do you know that?'

'My dear Watson, it's all a matter of deduction.'

'Will you explain?'

'Well, when a man becomes absorbed in a certain theme, the murder will out some day. In many discussions you and I have on the fiscal question from time to time I have not failed to notice that you have taken up an attitude antagonistic to a certain school of thought, and on several occasions you have commented on the passing of "so-called" reforms, as you describe them, which you say were not the result of a spontaneous movement from or by the people, but solely due to the pressure of the Manchester School of politicians appealing to the mob. One of these allusions you made a peculiar reference to "Huz an' Mainchester" who had "turned the world upside down." The word "Huz" stuck to me, but after consulting many authors without learning anything as to the source of the word, I one day in reading a provincial paper noticed the same expression, which the writer said was descriptive of the way Hawick people looked at the progress of Reform. "Huz an' Mainchester' led the way. So, thought I, Watson has a knowledge of Hawick. I was still further confirmed in this idea by hearing you in several absent moments crooning a weird song of the Norwegian God Thor. Again I made enquires, and writing to a friend in the South country I procured a copy of "Teribus." So, I reasoned, so - there's something in the air! What attraction has Hawick for Watson?'

'Wonderful,' Watson said, 'and -- '

'Yes, and when you characterised the action of the German Government in seeking to hamper Canadian trade by raising her tariff wall against her, as a case of "Sour Plums," and again in a drawing room asked a mutual lady friend to sing you that fine old song, "Braw, braw lads," I was curious enough to look up the old ballad, and finding it had reference to a small town near to Hawick, I began to see a ray of daylight. Hawick had a place in your mind; likewise so had Galashiels - so much was apparent. The question to be decided was why?'

'So far so good. And -- '

'Later still the plot deepened. Why, when I was retailing to you the steps that led up to the arrest of the Norwood builder by the impression of his thumb, I found a very great surprise that you were not listening at all to my reasoning, but were lilting a very sweet - a very sweet tune, Watson - "The Flowers of the Forest;" then I in turn consulted an authority on the subject, and found that that lovely if tragic song had a special reference to Selkirk. And you remember, Watson, how very enthusiastic you grew all of a sudden on the subject of Common-Ridings, and how much you studied the history of James IV., with special reference to Flodden Field. All these things speak, Watson, to the orderly brain of a thinker. Hawick, Galashiels, and Selkirk. What did the combination mean? I felt I must solve the problem, Watson; so that night when you left me, after we had discussed the "Tragedy of a Divided House," I ordered in a ton of tobacco, wrapped my cloak about me, and spent the night in thought. When you came round in the morning the problem was solved. I could not on the accumulative evidence but come to the conclusion that you contemplated another Parliamentary contest. Watson, you have the Border Burghs in your eye!'

'In my heart, Holmes,' said Watson.

'And where do you travel to on Saturday, Watson?'

'I am going to Selkirk; I have an engagement there to open a Bazaar.'

'Is it in aide of a Bridge, Watson?'

'Yes,' replied Watson in surprise; 'but how do you know? I have never mentioned the matter to you.'

'By word, no; but by your action you have revealed the bent of your mind.'

'Impossible!'

'Let me explain. A week ago you came round to my rooms and asked for a look at "Macaulay's Lays of Ancient Rome." (You know I admire Macaulay's works, and have a full set.) That volume, after a casual look at, you took with you. When you returned it a day or two later I noticed it was marked with a slip of paper at the "Lay of Horatius," and I detected a faint pencil mark on the slip noting that the closing stanza was very appropriate. As you know, Watson, the lay is all descriptive of the keeping of a bridge. Let me remind you how nicely you would perorate -

When the goodman mends his armour

And trims his helmet's plume,

When the goodwife's shuttle merrily

Goes flashing through the loom,

With weeping and with laughter.

Still the story told -

How well Horatius kept the bridge,

In the brave days of old.

Could I, being mortal, help thinking you were bent on some such exploit yourself?'

'Very true!'

'Well, goodbye, Watson; shall be glad of your company after Saturday. Remember Horatius' words when you go to Border Burghs :- "How can man die better than facing fearful odds." But there, these words are only illustrations. Safe journey, and success to the Brig!'

UPDATE: MATTIAS BOSTROM IS CONVINCED THE STORY IS NOT WRITTEN BY DOYLE, AND IT IS A PRETTY STRONG ARGUMENT... BUT STILL NOT DEFINITIVE PROOF EITHER WAY.

Things That Fall Out Of Books: Where, When and Who Is This?

With a nod to the excellent blogger and bookseller Callum James (from whom I've shamelessly nicked the idea), here a Thing That Fell Out Of A Book; an immaculately preserved full leather copy of the Everyman edition of Melville's Typee, to be precise.

It's a street scene photo, which was evidently originally printed as one half of a postcard, but presumably for a 'private' customer, rather than a postcard on general sale.

From the clothes, my not particularly educated guess is 1920s or 30s rather than 40s, but exactly when, or indeed who or where – I've no idea. The book comes from a local house, but the street certainly doesn't look like anywhere in Penrith to me. I thought it might be somewhere in Europe (that street looks rather wide and leafy, boulevard-style), but then I had a look at that 'B' on the shopfront: from the font I'm pretty certain that's a Boots the chemist... but which branch? 

And why is she carrying what looks like an overcoat when she's already wearing one? Anyone got any more ideas?