Coming through the security check at Heathrow recently, my carry-on bag triggered an alert and was pulled aside for inspection. At the request of the agent, I opened the bag.
“Anything sharp?” she asked.
I suddenly had a moment of dread that I had foolishly packed the Swiss Army knife in the side pocket. You know the kind of thing – a tool for every emergency, plus one for removing stones from horses’ hooves. This particular one comes with a toothpick. (Imagine.) But no, I hadn’t.
The agent began feeling around inside the bag and poking at it with some kind of investigative wand, apparently designed to identify traces of explosives.
The culprit turned out to be books. Or rather, one book.
The recent purchase from the Imperial War Museum was not the problem; it was Shakespeare. Specifically, a 1912 leather-bound, gilt-edged edition.
I asked what had caused the alarm, and the agent explained that some old books trigger security systems because they resemble items used to smuggle explosives.
Apparently, old books often attract attention at airport security because their dense, layered pages, glue, and bindings block X-rays, appearing as dark, opaque masses on scanners. Thick paper, cardboard, and aged materials in hardcovers are difficult for scanners to penetrate, creating “blind spots” that have to be checked manually. Smugglers have also been known to hollow out old books to conceal weapons, drugs, or cash, and the dense organic profile of antique books can resemble certain explosives on a scan. So agents are trained to flag and inspect them.
Live and learn.
I had the book in my bag because of its sentimental value. It is one of many books on my brother’s shelves that carry a family story behind them.
This particular volume is lovely to handle. It reeks of old smoke, has weight and heft, yet is surprisingly easy to read. The frontispiece is attractive, and the introduction by Dowden interesting. But the stronger connection is the story of how it came to be there.
North Africa
When my father was serving in North Africa in 1943, a collection of donated books arrived from people and organisations in Britain for troops overseas. This was among them, and it was the one he chose.
It is the antithesis of the lightweight paperback service editions shipped abroad in their thousands to the forces.
I have his diary from 1943, and like the one from 1940 the entries are sparse but still tell a story. There is no mention of this volume or Shakespeare. But written inside the front cover is this:
The lines come from the final Chorus of The Bacchae, in the translation by Gilbert Murray. The quotation reads:
What else is Wisdom? What of man’s endeavour …
To stand from fear set free, to breathe and wait;
To hold a hand uplifted over Hate;
And shall not Loveliness be loved for ever?”
Interestingly, the line about God has been omitted.
Research tells me that the passage captures a moment of catharsis and philosophical recognition near the play’s conclusion. Wisdom, the Chorus suggests, does not lie in domination, vengeance, or excess — the very forces that drive the tragedy — but in endurance, patience, and grace. To “stand from fear” and “breathe and wait” is to imagine a kind of liberation from anxiety and violence; to hold “a hand uplifted over Hate” is to rise above bitterness and destruction. On the mark for the mop-up after Operation Torch.
Was this man, whose formal education ended at the age of 14, reading Euripides in the desert?
Acquiring the book in Africa in 1943 meant it followed the army postal routes through North Africa, Italy, and Palestine, before finally returning home with its owner in 1945.
The Atlas
Also on that journey was this Pocket Atlas of the World published in 1942 by the Scottish cartographic firm W. & A.K. Johnston Ltd.
This meant that when he disembarked from the troopship, the HMS Dunottar Castle in Algiers in March 1943, he knew where in the world he was. It’s a lovely little book, and the note inside characteristically has the place of purchase, the date, and his initials.
In the front is an update of the history of the war 1939-1942.
And of course, the map of the world was quite different eighty-four years ago.
A lovely post Josie . Thank you. And an apt quote when even an old book in a bag can be cause for fear and suspicion.
At the present time of “bitterness and destruction”, It’s good to hear our ancestors’ responses to their time. Your father was an exceptional man. I have my father‘s diary from 1942, guardedly written in an exercise book for fear of censorship but dedicating his war service to my mother and their hoped-for future together.
He was an ordinary man caught up in exceptional circumstances. I have his spare (yet so revealing) diaries for the years 1940 – 1944 and then some post-war.
I would so love to read your father’s for 1942.
Wonderful post, and beautifully written, too. I love this observation: “Acquiring the book in Africa in 1943 meant it followed the army postal routes through North Africa, Italy, and Palestine, before finally returning home with its owner in 1945.” A well-traveled book—and now has traveled again to our home!
What a fascinating blog post which weaves together so many different topics — airline security, world history, your father’s literary choices and influences, etc. I particularly appreciate this reminder from ancient Greece “Wisdom, the Chorus suggests, does not lie in domination, vengeance, or excess — the very forces that drive the tragedy — but in endurance, patience, and grace. To “stand from fear” and “breathe and wait” is to imagine a kind of liberation from anxiety and violence; to hold “a hand uplifted over Hate” is to rise above bitterness and destruction.” Thank you for writing and publishing it!
An apt quotation for 1943.
An apt quotation for our own times.
Thanks Will
Precious possessions. I have my father’s atlas from 1948 which I suppose was already a little different to 1942.
Yes, precious. And old maps and atlases are fascinating. All the lost names and places. the shifting borders and boundaries.
And the diary has all the then weights and measures and postal costs: Inland mail not exceeding 2 oz 21/2d. For H.M Forces and Ships abroad 1 1/2 d. And rates for the Empire. Not to mention First Aid hints and a chart to calculate hourly wages.
Special books, Josie. I have a few of my own father’s books from the same era but with nothing written in his own hand. He seemed to enjoy illustrated books and that must be why I do likewise!
Very special. One of the illustrated books I remember had some gruesome illustrations of Bible stories and then two quite lovely editions from the Wayside and Woodland series published by Frederick Warne & Co.
Now there’s a coincidence! A favourite aunt, gave me her copy of Edward Step’s Wayside and Woodland Trees by Warne. I don’t know where she bought it has an unknown signature dated Christmas 1942 penned inside. However, I do know that all the little leaf samples in between many of the pages were hers! I have added further samples occasionally, over the years, putting them in little clear pockets to preserve the books pages. With her book in my hands, I know she is beside me still.
Absolutely gorgeous books. I love the rounded corners and the weight of them.