As I write this, my wife, Michelle, is painstakingly organising books for our new Ikea bookcase.  I know it’s Saturday night and we should be doing something more exciting – at least watching Strictly or something – but watching these new bookcases take shape is captivating.  Earlier, I climbed up into the attic and passed down bags filled with books that had been imprisoned in packing boxes.  It was wonderful reuniting with so many old friends: the complete Penguin collection of Orwell’s fiction and non-fiction; the Lloyd Alexander Taran Chronicles, an entire shelf of Dickens, life seems much better having these books showcased in the living room, where they belong.