As an English Student, you would think I get set enough reading to keep me going throughout the week. But it seems that sometimes you need a break from Spenser and Anglo-Saxon epics and I find that this comes in the oddest of places. From delusional first week optimisms: ‘I can join a Kafka reading group...I’ll make time!’, to everyday oddities like post-it notes and postcards, literature is always sneaking up on me.

Time is a thing I always seem to lack in my day (which is why most of the time my days tend to extend into my nights now). This transformation into a semi-nocturnal beast has not vanquished me yet though; as long as there is tea, and the occasional visit from Jake the college cat at 2am, I shall prevail.

Exploring Peterhouse’s library while at rehearsals earlier this week, it was hard not to love a place where you can find books on just about anything. Even Shakespeare agrees: ‘ah me, poor man, my library/Was dukedom large enough’ (The Tempest). Our own library is pretty jazzy too, I really like the archways especially at night when they’re lit up. It reminds me of Jorge Luis Borges: ‘I have always imaged that Paradise will be a kind of Library.’ But if anything, it’s outside the library walls that the real reading of my week happens...

I tend to be one of those eclectic people who gather old tickets and flyers and ‘inspirational’ things and stick them all over the place. I came to realise that the most important pieces, the ones I stare at everyday while brushing my teeth/avoiding work are things I read. A card from my Godmother which never ceases to bring a smile to my face (also seemed suitable given it was International Woman’s day on Thursday): 

While working on Write Offs: a sketch show, reading all the ‘props’ during rehearsals was endlessly entertaining. From scraps of coursework and lecture notes to comedy gold no one ever saw, all scattered on those scrap pieces of paper...and some very interesting drawings too. There was  also the endless re-reading involved in learning lines for a play earlier this week: i the capacity of my brain to memorise scripts, random facts, and endless dialogue from ‘Friends’ always amazes me, and yet it takes hardcore training to ever memorise quotations for—dare I say it—exams. 

Some of the nicest things I get to read every week are the weird and wacky things that end up in my pigeon hole. I don’t think I’ve ever before in my life received proper mail on such a regular basis. Real Mail! The joy of waking up to find something waiting in your pidge has to be one of the best perks of any day. Although the initial hubbub seems sadly to have died down now that family and friends have adjusted to my absence, at least they still know how to send messages with style: ‘Plus Balloon’ is never a bad thing to read on a letter. 

Heading to the Faculty I also come across nice surprises which are not on the shelves, like the latest issue of Eliot’s Face, a beautiful art magazine with some lovely poetry from Cambridge’s finest. A welcome break after translation exercises. 

Some easy reading in the comic magazine 9th Art also proved to a welcome break from work. I’m a particular fan of the Thesaurus. Something my lovely wife latched onto:

Some more frivolous reading thinking I was safe and away from work I came across one of our lovely alumni, Lily Cole. You can never really escape Cambridge can you? 

Dr Seuss ultimately sums up my reading mantra - the reason I devote weeks to it: 'The more you read, the more things you will know. The more that you learn, the more places you'll go'. 

But in the end I often find it’s the things you can't read that prove to be the most frustrating or interesting of the day:

For the uninitiated, no, it's not elvish.