Confessions of a Bookseller

by Shaun Bythell

Captain (the cat) is already nudging the borderline of morbid obesity and is the size of a small child. He now has the bonus of the full thickness of his winter coat upon him, and frequently startles customers who, on feeling what they imagine is a svelte kitten rubbing against their legs in the shop, look down to find something more akin to a fat puma instead.

Karl-Heinz ‘fed’ me the entire book over the next seven weeks. The metaphor is exact. The thin wads of pages were like crucial scraps of nutrition. I devoured them. I masticated, swallowed and digested that book. I cracked its bones and sipped its marrow; every fibre of meat, every cartilaginous module of gristle was dined on with gourmandising fervour.