‘I prefer to pass it on so someone else can find their own adventure’
Author Samantha Shannon on the five books she would never part with
I’ve given away many books in my time. Just a couple of months ago I sent a huge box to a school to clear some space for new reads. Although I love a full bookshelf that creaks under the weight of millions of words and, although my apartment didn’t feel like home until I’d assembled my hoard of novels in my living room, I don’t have a deep sentimental attachment to most of them individually. The experience of reading the story is what matters — and with some stories, I don’t need the physical object as a reminder of that experience. Often, instead of letting a book gather dust, I prefer to pass it on so someone else can find their own adventure in its pages. However, there are a small number of books that mean the world to me. If they were gone, my home would feel a little colder. 1 Dragon Rider by Cornelia Funke. This magnificent adventure about a boy, a brownie and a dragon named Firedrake, translated from the original German by Anthea Bell, was my favourite childhood read and is partly responsible for my lifelong fascination with dragons. I kept my hardback copy in pristine condition. It ended up being stowed in a box for many years in my parents’ loft before I moved into my own apartment, when I rediscovered it, dusted it off and gave it pride of place on my bookshelves. To this day it looks almost brand new. Each chapter header includes an illustration by Funke, and a popup map blossoms from the middle, charting the main characters’ journey to the Himalayas. It’s been about 10 years since I last opened it but Funke recently published a sequel, The Griffin’s Feather, so I think it might soon be time for a re-read. 2
The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood. I was first introduced to The Handmaid’s Tale when I was 18. One of my English Literature teachers gave me a copy when I left secondary school in the hope that I’d love it — and I did. It was a seminal read that introduced me to feminism and made me aware that dystopia was a genre, shaping my creativity and my life in general. Even though my old paperback copy is dog-eared and a little tattered, I’d never get rid of it. Of course, when I finally met Margaret Atwood in person I didn’t have it with me. She was kind enough to sign my hardback edition of Oryx and Crake, which is also very special to me — even though I haven’t read it yet. 3
Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone by J.K. Rowling. I passed most of my original set of Harry Potter books to my younger sister so she could discover the Wizarding World the way I did. I’ve since replaced them with the woodcut editions illustrated by Andrew Davidson, which are stunning – monochrome, exquisitely detailed, with a bright rainbow of spines. However, I held on to my first Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, bought for me by my grandmother, for old times’ sake. I was born in the early-90s, so Harry Potter was the lifeblood of my childhood. The pages have yellowed during 20 years. 4
Noughts and Crosses by Malorie Blackman. This is not my first copy of Noughts and Crosses, a book I fell in love with when I was about 12, which left a lasting impression. I lent my original and much-loved copy of this masterpiece to a friend at university, who never returned it, much to my chagrin. I mean to hold on to my new one. 5
The Poems of Emily Dickinson ed by R. W. Franklin. Emily Dickinson once said, “If I read a book and it makes my whole body so cold no fire can warm me, I know that is poetry.” So far, she is the only poet who has ever made me feel that way, which is why I specialised in her work at university. I usually gravitate towards prose but I can open any page of this magnificent collection and find comfort and meaning there.