Frankfurter Buchmesse

I spent last Sunday (yes, I know: blogging about events a week old. My head I hang in shame © Lioness) at the Frankfurter Buchmesse, courtesy of some friends who had a stand there this year. The organisers tried something new this year, and boxed off an out-of-the-way section of an inaccessible floor of a minor building for a Messe-within-the-Messe, the first ever Frankfurter Antiquariat-Buchmesse. "Antiquariat" are the antiques dealers of the book world: e.g. a signed copy of the first edition of "Ulysses", priced at 150 thousand Euros; or six-hundred-year-old hand-illustrated Bibles and Books of Hours, painted in gold leaf and powdered lapis lazuli, priced at you wouldn't believe me if I told you. There were amazing, mouth-watering, "I can't believe it" books and book-like objects everywhere.

The Buchmesse is truly enormous, more than seven thousand publishers were represented there, ranging from the paperback massmarketers like DTV and Fischer (240 square metres = 2400 square feet, a dozen staff, I don't know how many hundreds of titles on display, thick-pile carpet and subdued lighting and comfy chairs and hardwood-panelled walls) down to the University of Nowhere Press, a sad man sitting alone in an undecorated particle-board box the size of a hotel bathroom. The Messe has a split personality: during the week it is trade-press only, for publishers and authors to schmooze, and the atmosphere is said to be very relaxed and friendly; the weekend is for the plebs, standing-room only and the atmosphere is like an airport a few hours before Christmas Eve. (My ticket was valid for the trade days, but I couldn't get away from work.)

Even so, I loved it. Any true book lover would have to love the Buchmesse, there's so much to enjoy. You are surrounded by brand-new (or honourably ancient) books, any one of which might become yours, and by people who want nothing more than to talk to you about them, and show you other better books. Even the vast sprawling mewling elbowing public is delightful tolerable, because we are all active book-lovers. One is drawn into conversations with random strangers, the eavesdropping is fascinating. A day at the Messe is as refreshing and invigorating as a day at the seaside.

The hard-core book junkies brought wheeled suitcases with them to trundle their purchases home in. I exercised restraint and bought only seven books (Günter Grass, Boethius, the Buddha, Marguerite Yourcenar, Paul Arden, and the book of the film of Don't come knocking by Sam Shepard and Wim Wenders); but I could easily have spent the better part of a lottery jackpot prize that afternoon.

In other news, Venus is clearly visible low in the south-western sky for about an hour after sunset during the next few days. It's unmistakeable, easily the brightest object in the sky (since the moon hasn't yet risen), already visible while the sky is still lit by the sun's afterglow. Mars rises in the northeast about the time that Venus sets, the brightest object in its half of the sky and distinctly orange. Hope for a clear sky, and have a look.