Here is the link to an article written by Justin Picardie on the 30th anniversary of the founding of Virago. I know many of us bloggers and others left comments on her blog, all of which I found fascinating. It seems that one of the things we all have in common is our love for the 'old' Green covers which now seem to have reached iconic status. I will pick up a Green Virago whenever and wherever I find them, no matter if I don't know the author or anything about them, as I know now that I am likely to enjoy it.
Virago Modern Classics celebrates 30 years of publishing
I have been through my collection of Virago books to see how many greens I have. I appear to have about 50+, some of which are the later Green covers with the apple on the front, those published in the 90s. Still not as lovely as the old ones, they are still better than the current crop IMHO.
As I wish personally to mark this wonderful anniversary I have decided to print a picture of the Virago's I own so that we can all gloat over the covers and raise a glass or two. This may take some weeks so be warned. And as I am not a person who subscribes to the theory of keeping the best till last, my first picture is of the very first Virago I read, my favourite Virago of all time and, in fact, one of my favourite reads of all time. I am referring of course to Diary of a Provincial Lady. This copy has been on my shelves now for over twenty years, it is getting tatty at the edges and worn out, but I will never replace it as I simply love the picture used on the cover. The artist is given as Leslie Harcourt, about who I know nothing and can only find an actor of that name on the internet (anybody have information please?) and there is the Provincial Lady writing her diary while Robert slumbers peacefully over the Times in the corner. And look at the picture on the wall - I had a dress just like that back in the Swinging Sixties!
Those of you who know this book will need no ravings from me to remined you of just how wonderful it is. The opening paragraph never fails to start me off laughing and fills me with pleasure, a feeling which does not fade while I am reading this wonderful book:
"November 7th - Plant the indoor bulbs. Just as I am in the middle of them, Lady Boxe calls. I say, untruthfully, how nice to see her and beg her to sit down while I just finish the bulbs. Lady B makes determined attempt to sit down in armchair where I have already placed two bulb bowls and the bag of charcoa, is headed off just in time, and takes the sofa. Do I know, she asks, how very late it is for indoor bulbs? September really, or even October is the time. Do I know that the only reliable firm for hyacinths is Somebody of Haarlem? Cannot catch the name of the firm, which is Dutch, but reply Yes I do know, but think it my duty to buy Empire products. Feel at the time, and still think, that this is an excellent reply. Unfortunately, Vicky comes into the drawing room later and says: "Oh, Mummy are those the bulbs we got at Woolworths?"
Priceless
