Congratulations to Kate Summerscale, right, whose book The Suspicions Of Mr Whicher – about a real-life Victorian crime that inspired many authors – has just scooped the Samuel Johnson Prize against stiff competition from Alex Ross, Patrick French, Mark Cocker, Tim Butcher and Orlando Figes.
When a woman wins a literary prize, it's often the cue for some classy harrumphing – usually from Tim Lott – about how this proves that the Orange Prize is sexist. But take a look at the aforementioned shortlist: in non-fiction, there's still a consp
icuous imbalance.
Worse, female non-fiction writers (Susan Greenfield on neurology; Bettany Hughes on ancient history; Naomi Wolf on cultural studies) have to answer many more questions about their footwear and hairstyle than their Y-chromosome blessed counterparts. With the exception of Melvyn Bragg.
Lay up treasure in the libraryIf you're reading the books pages to escape the Economic Apocalypse going on elsewhere, look away now. The credit crunch is evidently biting in the publishing sector as well. It's not just websites like Bookrabbit that are shutting up shop – last week brought the news that the trade journal Publishing News will cease publication this month. If you're worried about the cost of culture, remember that a paperback is still cheaper than a CD, DVD, theatre, film or gig ticket, and lasts longer too.
The law adds insult to injuryRandom House, on the advice of the procurator fiscal, has delayed publication of Dana Fowley's misery memoir, How Could She?, widely described in the trade as the "ne plus ultra" of the form. Fowley, as some readers may know, suffered horrendous abuse at the hands of her family, and forewent her anonymity after the high profile court case last year. This is an incredibly difficult situation. The fiscal's decision relates to further charges being brought against men not identified in the book; and the last thing that anyone would want is to jeopardise the proper workings of the court. Fowley's understandable present disappointment must be balanced against the necessity of justice being done. It does raise some questions that publishers ought to consider: whether it's Russell Brand spitting in a one-night-stand's face or the cocaine binges of Abi Titmuss, right, publishers have lapped up the confession of misdemeanours, but when a victim speaks out, it's sub judice. It has more than a whiff of double standards.
Picture perfect: seeing us read as others see usOne delightful photograph book has arrived at my desk – a reissue of André Kertész's haunting images of people reading. I can't imagine a future volume that captures the poetry, humanity and soulfulness of people texting, checking our their MySpace page or fiddling with their iPod.
The full article contains 456 words and appears in Scotland On Sunday newspaper.
