Many people like books and reading. I like books that aren't worth reading. Conveniently, I spent some time working in Hull Central Library, and my friends there are always careful to ensure that all the books nobody could ever want pass into my hands. All the books in this section were booted out of the library by an anonymous donor who is responsible for weeding out such things, based on their meeting any or all of the following criteria:

They haven't been taken out of the library at all in several years or they have been taken out very rarely during a period of several decades.
They are smelly / dirty / generally not fit to be seen.
They're rubbish.

Books so disposed of are either sold for a few pennies on the sale shelf, or, if they seem to fit in with the collection below, given to me.

Ancient and Modern Scottish Songs
David Herd, Scottish Academic Press, 1973
A book of cobblers in the vein of The Singing Street (q.v.), this time with particular emphasis on the pop doggerel of the 18th century. As with that other largely worthless offering, this book is written entirely in 'Scottish dialect' - or to the layman such as me, 'gibberish'. To further confuse the issue, the errant typesetter elected to add a rustic charm to the book by substituting 'f' for 's', and seemingly inserted 'etc.' more or less at random. A typical example is found with the first stanza of "Edward":

"Edward, Edward (well I understood that bit at least)

Quhy dois zour brand fae drap wi' bluid (ah...)

EDWARD, EDWARD?

Quhy dois zour brand fae drap wi' bluid?

And quhy fae fad gang zee, O?

O, I hae killed my hauke fae guid"

And so on and so forth for what feels like eternity. Other dubious delights include the instantly forgettable "Dunt, dunt pittie, pattie", "Waly waly", and "The wee wee Man". Oddly, there's also a ballad entitled Chevy-Chace. Didn't realise he was that old.

"Little wat ye, etc."

The Arrow Book of Jokes and Riddles
Uncredited, Scholastic Book Services, 1953
Feeling down? Need a lift and a bit of a laugh? If so, this is absolutely the wrong book for you. An utterly joyless, humourless travesty of writing, without one solitary amusing sentence within. Consider the following jesty truffles:

"To what man does everyone always take off his hat? The barber."
"Two leopards were having lunch and one sat back and sighed contentedly, 'Mmm, just hit the right spots!'"

While you stitch your sides back together, enjoy the following from the section ambitiously titled "Laughs across the oceans":

"A fellow, carrying a hundred-pound bomb, got on a London bus and sat down. 'What's that you've got in your lap?', asked the conductor. 'It's a delayed action bomb I'm taking to the police station,' came the answer. 'Coo!' exclaimed the conductor. 'You don't want to carry a thing like that on your lap! Put it under the seat!'"

Hilarious.

"How can you make a slow horse fast?" ...kill me.

Artificial Cricket Pitches
Reginald Wesley, Contractors Record Ltd., 1955
The forword strikes a warning note about the horrors within this seminal work - "Undoubtedly, Mr. Wesley has gone into the question of artificial cricket pitches very thoroughly" observes Denis Compton, sounding slightly desperate. Nine chapters and many illustrations confirm this depressing prognosis, answering such vital questions as "Mastic or plaster?" and "Sheets or slabs?". The misguided concept of "Sowing grass under bitumen" is also covered, along with the values and pitfalls of such made-up-sounding surfaces as Bituturf and Rubberoid. Disturbingly, the author also suggests surfacing your pitch with Semtex. The whole thing is rounded off by a frighteningly thorough Rough Guide to artificial pitches of the U.K., extending to an overlengthy ten pages.

"I was impressed with the possibilities of the vermiculite and bitumen wicket"

Axioms of Kwame Nkrumah
Kwame Nkrumah, Panaf Books, 1967
Subtitled Freedom Fighters' Edition Kwame Nkrumah's little black book is not entirely dissimilar the the work of Chairman Mao. Seemingly concerned particularly with Ghana, said axioms are short extracts from various speeches by the man himself. The big mystery has to be how it ended up entombed in a Hull Central Lending Library stack, seemingly never to be borrowed. Worthy stuff but not a great read.

"Non violent methods are now anachronistic in revolution"

Bananas
N.W. Simmonds, Longmans, 1959
Who would have thought that bananas could be so complicated? Entire chapters devoted to such weighty topics as vegetative morphology, cultivars, clones, 'miscellaneous uses', and pests allow anyone wishing to establish their own banana plantation to get on with it. Just look out for the Banana Borer...(the author, presumably).

" 'Pacha bontha bathees' "

Boot and Shoe Industry
J.S. Harding, Isaac Pitman and Sons Ltd., 1931
After an opening chapter on foot sizes and shapes, it's straight into chapter two with a discussion of...foot sizes and shapes. The geometry becomes progressively more inexplicable as the foot shapes flow thick and fast into chapters three, four, and, basically, the rest of the book. The high point comes from the lithographs of ludicrously complicated shoe making machinery, the crowning glory of which seems to be the "Automatic Sole Levelling Machine". It's hard to put into words how complex these gadgets are, but it makes me go cross eyed just looking at them.

"The machine used for bottom-buffing works by means of a small circular cap, fitted on the end of a vertical spindle and having a rotary motion"

British Rubber Manufacturing
Audrey G. Donnithorne, Gerald Duckworth and Co. Ltd., 1958
Demonstrating that tedious industrial monographs aren't just the preserve of men, Ms. Donithorne glosses over some of the more obvious uses for latex, preferring to concentrate on less controversial areas - like hoses and conveyor belts. Even the chapter on "Rubber Mechanicals" isn't as promising as it sounds. If you thought a discussion of such weighty topics as "Latex Foam and Other Cellular Rubbers" would be boring, you're absolutely right.

"Another method of hastening coagulation is by using latex"

British Shopping Centres
Wilfred Burns, Leonard Hill Ltd., 1959
Subtitled New Trends in Layout and Distribution, this peculiarly joyless book holds up various 50's concrete monstrosities as shining beacons of design. With the benefit of hindsight, we now realise they were actually just creating a giant spawning ground for chavs and muggers, as well as a convenient urinal for drunks on their way home. Particularly hideous examples, doubtless depressing us to this day, include the pedestrian precinct in Crawley, a suburban centre in Coventry, and some truly bad toilets in Northampton. Even completely ordinary litter bins are studied in mind numbing detail. A bibliography tacked on the end includes a frightening ninety-three similar volumes.

"A gay advertisement kiosk, Welwyn"

Bungalow Plans 1976
Daily Mail, 1976
A sort of Look In annual for bungalow enthusiasts, this A4 nightmare displays the diminutive dwellings in sickeningly bright colour photographs. Every one resembles either a motorway service station or a cut rate sheltered housing development. Peppered with dismal adverts for such exciting products as patio doors and extractor fans, this is architectural pornography at its very worst. Just opening this book is like looking into a joyless abyss lined with vomit coloured woodchip and reconstituted stone cladding.

"I'm glad I fitted Chilton circuit breakers!"

The Caravan Book
Christine Fagg, Exley Publications, 1982
Into the 80's with this awful caravanners tract. Opening with the slightly ambitious premise that if you own a caravan "the world can be your oyster", the book rapidly descends into a worrying nether world of washable seat covers and chemical toilets. Among the weird gadgets on offer are the "Racksetera kitchen fitment" and the wretched "So-lo cosy bunk".

"It's worth discussing whether or not you are going to be sociable"

Cobalt Monograph
Centre D'information Du Cobalt, Centre D'information Du Cobalt, 1960
Cobalt is a silvery coloured metal with an atomic weight of 58.933, and it's a constituent of Marmite. That's probably ten times more information than the average person would like to know about it, but Cobalt Monograph wasn't written for the average person. Only the true Zen Master of cobalt could face wading through over 500 pages of information on every conceivable aspect of the wretched stuff, as well as some inconceivable ones.

"Hardness is reported as 1350 D.P.H."

Concrete Technology
D.F. Orchard A.C.G.I, D.I.C. M.I.C.E F.I.E, Applied Science Publishers, 1976
D.F. Orchard may have most of the contents of a small tin of Alphabetti Spaghetti after his name, but that doesn't detract from the fact that he may very well be the most boring man on Earth. I made it as far as the section on "Gabbro", (a coarse grained plutonic rock, like you even cared) before losing the will to live and beginning to weep. A week after and I was ready to wade back in, like a man plunging into a sewer. With Breccia, Tuffs, and Greywacke under my belt, I found myself right back at square one. Another week's rest after that, I dipped in briefly to the sections on "measurement of roundness of a stone", the Los Angeles Machine, and the exciting world of the Slake Durability Index, and then I basically just couldn't stand any more. The back cover laughingly refers to other "Titles of Interest". Limit-State Design of Prestressed Concrete, anyone?

"All material having an MBA valueof above 11.0 should be rejected"

Decorative Flower and Leaf Making
Frederick T. Day, C. Arthur Pearson Ltd., c. 1959
Although it's not immediately clear from the title, the flowers and leaves in question are actually made from bits of paper with stuff attached. Should you wish to indulge in the pastime, you'll also need a source of passe partout, neerglass, and various other things that were probably banned as suspected carcinogens sometime around 1970. A cheery tone and comparison illustrations of leaves collected from the wild fail to compensate for the rubbish nature of the objects the author managed to turn out. At just 102 pages, at least it's short.

"This is important"

Discovering Topiary
Margaret Baker, Shire Publications, 1969
This tedious mish-mash of topiary information, anecdotes, and other soporifics doesn't really have much of anything. Launching into a history of topiary on page five, we pass through the "grand age" by page eight, hitting "the decline" on page fifteen. Running out of steam shortly after, a few simple guidelines on making your own topiary will doubtless convince most people not to bother.

"A topping Ben Jonson in Laurel"

The Doll Book
Karin Neuschutz, Floris, 1985
A fairly promising book which falls down on the surreal details. An early warning of the strangeness to come appears when adults are referred to as "erect people". Normality more or less reasserts itself until the instructions on making the titular dolls appear. By the time you've created the 'head ball', bound off the inner head, and skinned over the muff, you have something which would scare any child in possession of all their marbles. Then you leave it on their pillow and wait for the screams when they wake up face to face with their new best friend.

"Fingers are really not necessary!"

Dolls in Miniature
Valerie Janitch, Ward Lock Ltd., c.1976
This well meaning attempt to allow parents to make stuff for their kids slowly descends into genteel chaos. The dolls themselves mostly lack any facial features apart from eyes, which lends them an unusual air of menace. The "Seasons" collection in particular resembles nothing more than a stuffed version of the Midwitch Cuckoos. The crowning glory, however, has to be "Fanny", with detailed instructions on how you can stuff your own.

"Always stuff slowly, evenly, and very firmly (unless otherwise instructed)"

Doncaster, An Area Study
Yorkshire and Humberside Economic Planning Council and Board, HMSO, 1969
For anyone who is not familiar with Doncaster, just imagine Mordor, but with ample parking. Everyone from the Lord Mayor to the tea boy seems to have been involved in the production of this unbelievably tedious study of the whole blighted area. Possibly because councils always do everything by committee, more likely because nobody wanted to get the blame for it. Transport links, electricity supply, water rates and even the geology of the strata underlying the place are dissected in the most painful detail possible. There are actually 165 pages, though I don't believe anybody can ever have got past page 85 (dust pollution) without topping themselves. Although, in its favour, Deb describes it as "just the right thickness to stop the ironing board from wobbling". Sacrilege.

"Female activity rates were low throughout the period"

Donkey Driving
Vivian Ellis, Richard Ellis, and Joy Claxton, J.A. Allen, 1980
Disturbing guide to the art of tying donkeys to carts and getting them to pull you about - something like a long eared car made out of meat. As usual with this sort of animal-buying-advice-from-experts book, there are endless pages of worrying information on all the ways in which buying your very own donkey can go horribly wrong. Further reams of data on the many and varied pitfalls of buying a cart to tie the creature to, and ramblings on how to drive the whole contraption follow. Inevitably, the whole book is brimming with jargon - winkers, billets, terrets, you get the picture. The reader is left with the overwhelming impression that it would probably be easier just to buy a lame donkey in the first place and pull the bloody cart themselves.

"The Wilson snaffle has four rings"

Dressed Soft Toys
Edith Moody, Dryad Press, c.1967
Similar in tone to Dolls in Miniature, but with the added oddity that all the dolls are supposed to be animals. To make the situation worse, they come in family groups. The squashed, bestial features of the bulk of the animals make them look angry - very angry. Percy and Polly Pig and the Porker Twins in particular really do scare me. Instructions for "Miss Fanny Fox" also included.

"All the mother toys share a pattern"

The English, are They Human?
G.J. Renier, Ernest Benn Ltd., 1956
Apparently not, at least if G.J. Renier is to be believed. A thorough, bitchy assassination of every aspect of English culture from the 1930's onwards ensures that Mr. Renier would no doubt get a well deserved kicking if he ever reappeared. Incidentally, the Irish also take a hammering, being described as "untruthful, bloodthirsty, and unreliable". Mr. Renier is (or possibly was) Dutch by the way. Oh, the irony.

"The limerick about the two young ladies of Twickenham is known by more than third of the adult population"

Facts About Margarine
R.J. Taylor, Van den Berghs Ltd, 1958
Well, what can you say. A book that does exactly what it says on the cover. A detailed discussion of the dietary value of different fats is brought to life by a selection of line drawings rendered in white, black, and a shade of green that anyone who has seen The Exorcist will find horribly familiar. The publishers also pushed the boat out to include technicolor spreads of things like "Calculating the plasticity of margarine" and "The votator - the key to modern margarine manufacturing". A lengthy list of references allow the margarine fetishist to indulge themselves to the full.

"This book tells you, briefly, what we now know about fats, and shows how we produce a range of margarines to suit a variety of palates - and pockets" Great.

Flying Saucers from the Earth's Interior
Raymond Bernard, Uncredited publisher, undated
Despite sporting a PhD., Mr. Bernard seems to be absolutely bonkers.The basic premise of his outsize paperback is as follows:

The earth is hollow, not filled with stuff, as previously thought.
There are big holes at the poles, which polar explorers have discovered.
Some sort of life form pops out in a flying saucer now and then, using the polar openings as a doorway, and this explains every UFO ever seen in an eminently satisfactory way.
(inevitably) The government / military industrial complex / God don't want you to know and have hushed the whole thing up.

Ignoring the fact that Dr. Bernard's theory genuinely appears to be total bollocks, somebody saw fit to publish his ramblings. More oddly, somebody else saw fit to annotate it during its long sojourn as a library book. Next to a photo of a large globe is written "Hole in Pole Venus Science Digest Sept/82". The best bit is the advert for other titles in the series, ranging from the hopelessly ambitious First Steps in Egyptian to the more achievable Do Four Things Now.

"A great Subterranean World with innumerable cities in which live millions of inhabitants"

Gums and Resins
E.J. Parry, Sir Isaac Pitman and Sons Ltd., c.1935
On aquiring this book in 2004, I was pleased to see that it hadn't been borrowed since 1957. Forty-seven years languishing in a library stack really is the mark of a work of true greatness, and represents a yet to be broken record for the collection. With only four chapters, and 106 pages, Gums and Resins still manages to pack in an amazing amount of utterly useless information on the twin gloops. There are actually three sections, entitled "Resins Proper", "Resins Etc." and "True Gums". It seems even the author couldn't be arsed to cover False Gums and Improper Resins, and, frankly, who can blame him.

"A good sample should be powerful in odour and have a bitter nauseous taste."

Handicrafts of the Finnish Women
Mary Olki, Werner Soderstrom Osakeyhtio, 1952
If this book is to be believed, said handicrafts comprise of the sort of dull embroidery and textile work that you might donate to Oxfam after your Granny pops her clogs. The incredibly bland, badly lit black and white photographs probably don't do them justice, given that the colour most favoured by Finnish women appears to be grey. That said, the technicolor plan views of the Kiimajarvi two colour sport mitten don't actually improve matters. Glimpses of the ribbed 'sport stocking' and a grotesque patterned pullover from Ostrobothnia bring the whole experience to a welcome halt.

"At both ends pink and green tassels at 4cm distance from eachother."

A History of Borax
N.J. Travis and E.J. Cocks, Harraps, 1984
With a massive twenty one chapters on the subject of the ubiquitous cleaning crystals, the reader's interest in this one inevitably begins to wane a bit. Extensively referenced, exhaustively researched, and yet utterly pointless, this book holds pride of place on my bookshelf. Page after page after page of miniaturised text so dry you can almost feel your body shrivel as you read it, makes wading into A History of Borax a brilliant remedy for insomnia.

"Borax is king!"

The History of the Concrete Roofing Tile
Charles Dobson, B.T. Batsford Ltd, 1959
Have you ever wondered how the concrete roofing tile came about? Well, Charles Dobson has, and he's going to tell you all about it. He briefly sets out his stall - "This book has been compiled with the single aim of interesting those who may like to know more about the origin and development of the concrete roofing tile than is generally known in England" - thereby limiting himself to an audience of nobody. 113 pages of indescribable tedium, enlivened only by a picture of the author which was presumably taken immediately before his committal. The book seems to have resulted from a prolonged visit to Germany, the spiritual home of the C.R.T. Too bad he didn't stay there...

"The Wasserburg beaver-tails are laid to a single lap"

Homebuilt Hovercraft
G.H. Williams, Air Cushion Vehicles reprint, undated
The irregular library date stamp tells the sorry tale of generations of failed, half built hovercraft lying forgotten all around the Hull area. Despite billing itself as a "plain man's guide", it's worth bearing in mind that Mr. Williams:

Has a postgraduate degree sponsored by Imperial College's Department of Aeronautics.
Worked as a design engineer in the Hovercraft Project Office at Vickers.

So basically, all those overambitious Dads with a Black & Decker jigsaw, a few bits of 2x4, and a library ticket really shouldn't even have started.

" D_s = C_f x A _w x V_w² "

How Much do You Know?
Harold Wheeler (ed.), Odhams Press Ltd., undated
Carefully omitting the word "Bollocks" from a strategic point in the title, this book sets out to answer some questions, varying from the painfully simple (smell, where is the organ of?, worm, why does it burrow?, macaroni, what is?) to the inexplicable (beds, what king had 413?, bean, which has the most uses?, bacteria, who made the first drawings of?). Page upon page of this sort of drivel make this the answer to that eternal conundrum, "book, which has the largest stock of utterly worthless information?"

"When was a wall represented in parliament?"

Illustrated History of Early Antique Spectacles
Hugh Orr, Hugh Orr, 1985
Two things stand out about this book.

It's a signed first (and probably last) edition. The message reads "First edition of my book. Hugh Orr"
The cover picture, Leather Spectacle c.1690 is probably the most disturbing picture I have ever seen. It's so awful I have to make sure it can't watch me when it's on the bookshelf. As you can see from the picture, it's a plaster bust of a man, with a false beard, floppy hat, hideous cravat, and 1690 vintage leather spectacles. It's staring at me as I write this. The expression on its face is...well, just have a look.

Inside, the book is pretty much what you'd expect. A fairly dull journey throught the many and varied varieties of antique specs follows a rough chronology through Britain. Then, inexplicably, it moves to China, and, oh my God, he has a Chinese version of the 'face' on the cover. And, if anything, it's even more freakish. Mummy, I'm scared.

"They had fallen behind a wainscotting and were preserved by chance"

The International Book of Beer Can Collecting
Richard Dolphin, Hamlyn, 1977
"100 cans in colour, more than 600 in black and white!" boasts the fly leaf of this oversized, overexcited tome. In the author's view, the chief advantage of this pastime is the very limited cash outlay required; a fact doubtless appreciated by alcoholics and down-and-outs the world over. For those with a bit more money, why not try picking up a Tennant's Temporary, or the celebrated Miss Rheingold series? Because your home would look like a dustbin, that's why.

"The fastest growing hobby of the 1970's"

Introducing Expanded Polystyrene
Alan Barnsley, B.T. Batsford Ltd., 1973
Another classic from the people who brought you The History of the Concrete Roofing Tile. A joyless introduction to expanded polystyrene segues effortlessly into an attempt to persuade the reader that it's good for more than toxic-in-a-fire ceiling tiles and television packaging. Ample photography illustrates that everything from ceiling tiles with bits chopped out to a twenty foot high trojan horse can be made of expanded polystyrene. The vexed question of why anyone would bother remains unanswered.

"If a child has no ability to create, he will destroy"

Larval Forms
Walter Garstang, Blackwells, 1954
This one is actually quite charming, in a strange sort of way. Walter Garstang was a zoology professor who tried to work out a way to drum information about larvae into his wayward students. His solution? Write reams of doggerel incorporating the technical terms. Consider the following quote from "The Invaginate Gastrula and the Planula"

"A giddy little Gastrula, gyrating round and round
Was thought to show the way we got our enteron profound
A little whirlpool in his wake maintained a tasty store
A pocket sank to lodge it all, and left a blastopore."

Bless him.

"The Onchosphere or Hexacanth was not designed for frolic..."

Life on One Leg
Tom Scott Sutherland, Christopher Johnson, 1957
Following a pretty revolting description of the loss of his leg (hence the title), Mr. Sutherland's autobiography starts down the slippery slope to out-and-out pornography. A sort of monopedal My Secret Life follows during his encounter with a bored housewife. He makes it out the other side though, and this really isn't bad, all things considered.

"Had I known the word at the time, I would have described her as a nymphomaniac"

Migrant Cocoa-Farmers of Southern Ghana
Polly Hull, Cambridge University Press, 1963
As the title suggests, this is just a little specialised. Promising "a series of discoveries and observations that will surely delight readers", the book, inevitably, fails to deliver. Probably on a par with the infamous History of Borax for sheer, unadulterated tedium.

"When your friends are taking snuff and you do not join them, they say that your fingernails are dead"

Modular Number Pattern
Ezra D. Ehrenkrantz, Alec Tiranti Ltd., 1956
This is, without a doubt, the most inexplicable book in the collection. It's definitely about something, but just what that something is, I can't really tell - there seems to be an architectural connection. The book comes with the rare (in library terms) and exciting addition of loose parts, described in the front as "4 bolts, 6 plastic sheets". The sheets themselves bolt together to form a sort of plastic sandwich with numbers dotted all over it. I think the idea is that the reader can then use it as some sort of ready reckoner, but for what, who knows.

"Tripling     Fib    Doubling"
   9   3         1        2 4 8
                   2
                   3
                   5
                   8

Moons of Paradise
Mervyn Levy, C. Tinling and Co. Ltd, 1962
Allegedly one man's thoroughly strange odyssey through the role of breasts in art, this is actually a sort of Boys Bumper Book of Boobs. Abundant plates showing details from classical paintings leave the reader in no doubt as to Mr. Levy's favourite female body part. Seven chapters attempt to provide some sort of structure, but the weird, fetishistic tone still persists throughout.

"A woman is 'all tits and bottom' " ...SLAP

More Performing Toys
Alice White, Mills and Boon, 1972
Mills and Boon took time out from publishing porn for Grannies to endorse this dross. Strangely, the author seems to have become excessively immersed in some barmy fantasy world, and you're left with the feeling that she genuinely believes that the titular toys - all comprising some old pie tins and other rubbish tied together with string - are alive. They all have names like "Verti-Brek", Luna-Hog" and, more disturbingly "Shag-A-Lek" (who has "a much longer neck and larger head than previous creatures"). The overall impression is of a case file from some schizophrenic's therapy session.

"Kwok is able to sing almost anything"

My System for Ladies
J.P. Muller, Athletic Publications Ltd., 1935(?)
The vague title of this book is clarified by the subtitle - "15 minutes exercise a day for your health's sake". A multitude of exercises for all parts of the body follow, all of which are illustrated by black and white photographs of scantily clad ladies experiencing the System at first hand. The author's precise motivation comes into question as he embarks on a description of "Trunk-flinging backwards and forwards, combined with rubbing of the breasts and loins". Sections on "The rubbings" and "Exercises During Certain Periods" seem to confirm the worst. As if to convince the reader that the author is not an inveterate pervert, a hastily added appendix compiles some letters allegedly received from ladies who have personally enjoyed the benefits of Mr. Muller's System. The suspicion inevitably remains that he actually just wrote them himself.

"My constipation is much improved"

Party Games for Children
Betty James, EP Publishing Ltd., 1979
A true classic from EP Publishing's well remembered "Know the Game" stable. A few words on "the importance of prizes" and it's straight into the games, none of which sound like much fun. Guaranteed collective groan-inducers include:

Do This Do That. Mum sits on a chair and tells the kids what to do (i.e. keep quiet and don't move while her migraine eases up).
Bow-Wow-Wow. All the children stand round and make dog sounds as loudly as possible, until they've all lost their voices.
Passing the Matchbox. Everyone stands in a circle and passes a box of matches around, until they realise how boring it is - or, conceivably break the tedium by striking a match and burning the house / the child next to them / themselves down..
Cock Fight. The children pair up and knock the shit out of one another for a while. Think Fight Club, but miniaturised.
Burst Bags. The children blow up and burst paper bags until nobody can stand it any more.
Snow Tracks. A bit more complicated than the rest. The least popular child is sent out into the snow and told to get as far away as possible. Five minutes later, all the others are sent out to find him and pelt him with snow balls. The door is then closed, leaving the the adults free to crack open the tequila and sling all their car keys into a fruit bowl.

"Each person makes 20 dots on his paper and passes it to the person on his right."

The Pipe Book
Alfred Dunhill, Arthur Barker Ltd., 1969
Alfred Dunhill has some good news for smokers - tobacco is "the sole narcotic that can be enjoyed repeatedly and even continuously without bringing in its train either physical discomfort or other ill effects". Following this startling revelation, he then hauls the reader on a slow, dull trip round the world of pipes. With hundreds to choose from, every page is like a deep breath of stinking, tar laden pipe smoke. In fact, reading The Pipe Book is rather like paying a visit to an incredibly dull museum full of nothing but pipes. Depressingly, it then transpires that such a place actually exists, not surprisingly under the curatorship of the late author's family.

"When inhaled, it is to the suffering soul as a mother's caress to an ailing child."

Plastics and Rubbers
E.W. Duck, Butterworth's, 1971
This mercifully slim volume is actually a sort of outdated A-level chemistry textbook in disguise. The author's failure to acknowledge the obvious comedy possibilities of a book on rubber written by a man called Duck warns the more alert members of his limited readership not to expect a fun time. By the end of page one, those who were have been disappointed.

"The scientist must not isolate himself to rubbers alone"

Plywood - What it is, What it Does
Louis H. Meyer, McGraw Hill Inc., 1947
After disposing of the first part of the book in a mere two chapters (it's basically sheets of wood glued together, like you didn't know), the author's wobble minded views on the virtues of plywood become clear. Resistance to borers, fire, impact damage, its dielectric properties, and just about every other aspect of plywood are held up as a stick to systematically demolish what faith you may have in other materials. Steel, plastic, and brick all enter the firing line, only to be mercilessly gunned down in the face of King Plywood. In the author's view, everything from boats to signs to golf clubs to houses should be made of plywood, and nothing less. Illustrations of plywood constructions abound, the highlight of which is probably a television - "The most modern of household appliances" - roughly the size of a Ford Transit. Of course it's encased in...yep, you got it.

"The sole limitation on the use of plywood is the skill of the artisan". That, and the fact that stuff made out of it looks shite.

Polishes
A.A. Davidson & B.M. Milwidsky, Leonard Hill, 1968
"The production of a good shoe cream...calls for pure operative skill" muse the authors, with a misguided enthusiasm not normally associated with shoe cream. The very boring world of polishes is then examined in a predictably dull style. Odd concepts - such as mopping your nice wooden floor with used engine oil - form the backbone of the whole pointless enterprise. The final flourish is a hopelessly impractical section on formulating your very own polish, which will allow only readers with access to an ample supply of dodecyl benzene sulphonate triethanolamine salt to make any sort of headway.

"Caussau was discovered by Knaggs while on a wax-hunting expedition"

Puppetry for Mentally Handicapped People
Caroline Astell-Burt, Souvenir Press, 1981
Although this one starts out with a laudable enough precept - that puppets can be a useful way to teach mentally handicapped people life skills - it rapidly turns into a quite unpleasant and one sided anti-abortion tract.
"DOCTOR: You can scrape them out the inside of you - and then the baby comes out in bits. Or you can suck the baby out and that also breaks him all up. Or you can poison him with salt - and that dries him up and burns him - but he is all in one piece"
A frankly quite creepy piece of work.

"We have to kill it."

Raffia
Annie L. Begg, Sir Isaac Pitman and Sons Ltd., 1962
From the same stable as the legend that is Gums and Resins, this supremely dull little work attempts to persuade you that making stuff from raffia is fun. Three chapters on how to weave a coaster ensure that idea goes out of the window straight away. Other projects include a shopping basket which has lasted twelve years in the field, probably to the great disappointment of the unfortunate owner. The book's hasty conclusion seems to be that it's OK to make something crap, as long as you did it yourself. How convenient.

"Another use for a raffia mat is to hang it on the wall" What was the first one again?

Rational Grazing
Andre Voisin, Crosby Lockwood and Son Ltd., 1962
Thoroughly odd mini-guide to getting the most from your pasture. Mr. Voisin combines hard science with a sort of theological fervour for grazing. Gnomic observations such as "Grass is made for the cow - not the cow for the grass", and "The strength of the grass should be husbanded as the strength of an athlete" provide the chapter titles. Complicated geometry rears its ugly head as the author attemps to clarify what the hell he is rambling on about. A far more workmanlike chapter on "economical fencing" (by someone completely different) arrives just too late to rescue everything else.

"The cow eats with five mouths." Do you see?

Recording Bird Song
Frederick Purves, Focal Press, 1962
The weird cover picture of a sort of psychadelic robin belies the essentially dull nature of this little gem. Sinister line etchings of a captured bird having a steel ring clipped to its leg with pliers don't help matters. Probably at the cutting edge of technology in the 1960's, the complicated 'how to' diagrams now allow only those still in possesion of a reel-to-reel tape deck to capture the local wildlife in action. Oh, and you'll need a car battery as well. And a 2 foot reflector microphone. And...oh, forget it.

"Arrange for a qualified bird ringer to show you the right way..."

Reginald Anthony Colmer Symes, One of Scunthorpe's Greatest Citizens
F.M.W. Harrison, St. John's Lads' Bible Class, 1973
In the days before cans of Stella were invented, it seems a lot of young boys spent time having their character built by Mr. Symes. Neglecting to mention who the other great citizens were to hail from Scunthorpe, the book paints a picture that would probably be considered quite worrying today. Mr. Symes' 'work among boys' was apparently carried out with the intention of converting as many as possible to christianity. Apparently he wasn't above cracking them on the arse with a ping pong bat when they got out of line though. No doubt the whole thing was venerable and platonic, but the book doesn't half make it sound dodgy.

"Others stood on the dashboard and at least four were in the 'dickey' "

Rushwork
Olivia Elton Barratt, Dryad Press Ltd., 1986
As with Gums and Resins, this book retains its original date stamp sheet, verifying the sad fact that it was borrowed three times in a seventeen year career. A quick peek inside confirms the reason why. Having exhausted the convential possibilities afforded by rushwork (waste paper bins, picnic baskets, coasters, err...that's it), the author moves onto more peculiar concepts. A biscuit tin holder, a container for a single cooking apple, and, most bizarre of all, a trilby hat, are all rendered in woven rushes. Despite the "two rod border to finish the brim", anyone wearing it would still look like a complete tosser.

""

Shellac
E. Hicks, MacDonald and Co., 1961
Shellac isn't something you see much of nowadays, so, for anyone not in the know, it's a sort of gluey secretion extracted from little bugs that live on twigs, formerly used in varnish and other things. All very well writing an entire book on the subject, but here's the problem: In its 43 years in the library, this book was taken out in 1966...and that's it. So far only Gums and Resins has managed to break that record, with Rushwork coming in a distant third. Unsurprisingly, the same brand of dire tedium is to be found in all three works.

"There is no other finish that will not gum up on the bowling ball"

Silage
Stephen J. Watson & A.M. Smith, Crosby Lockwood and Son Ltd., 1951
Dreary guide to the most versatile of half-rotted products. The author's experienced eyes are cast over the use of potatoes, kale, sugar beet, peas, and many other ensilable crops. For those on a diet, a chapter on the food value of silage ensures you can still work out your Weight Watchers points.

"The members of the silo rings all collaborated "

The Singing Street
James T. R. Ritchie, Oliver & Boyd, 1964
Fairly worthless record of the sort of gibberish Edinburgh's youth used to spout in the early twentieth century. Not really helped by being written largely in dialect - a bit like a heroin free Train Spotting.

"Who stole the poultice from the bairn's scabby heid
Ballocks! was all the band could play
Ballocks! they played it night and day
Ballocks! 'twas only ballocks!
'Twas only Ballocks! the band could play!"

"Cripple Dick upon a stick "

Soap Carving
Lester Gaba, The Studio Ltd, 1939
World champion soap carver's guide to his hobby, which he describes as "good clean fun" (jesus). Detailed descriptions of the important tools required to enjoy the hobby - pinheads, sinkers, scoopers and groovers - make it all sound quite practical. An illustration of a soap version of Whistler's Mother draws in the unwary. Then reality crashes back in, when you learn that you'll need to buy a block of soap weighing half a ton. A picture of the author chopping up one such piece hammers home just how much soap that really is. Strangely, the black and white photos appear to have been hurriedly glued onto the pages with Bostik just before the book left the printers.

"The mere fact that it is carved in three dimensions makes it at once a THING"

Spare Time at Sea
Ronald Hope, The Maritime Press Ltd, 1954
At sea? Got some spare time? If so, this could be the answer to your prayers. Activities ranging from the mundane (deck quoits, cricket), to the inexplicable ("A Brains Trust"), to the downright worrying ("Horses Hung on Wires") are accompanied by black and white photographs of camp looking men in various states of undress. The whole thing is epitomised by one such picture, captioned simply "One-night Stand". Right.

"Schnozzle"

The Strange Story of False Teeth
John Woodford, Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1983
Despite a desperately jocular tone throughout, this is still basically just a book about false teeth. Endless illustrations of false teeth, all looking the same, are interspersed with illustrations of scary looking dental equipment. Entire chapters on the roles of springs, fastenings, and suction chambers fail to counteract the soporific effect. A quick recce round the use of teeth in the indentification of corpses and that's your lot. Better than a trip to the dentist, but not much.

"My ill state of health proceeded from the putrid miasma given out by the bony substance of this set of teeth"

The Beginning of Rayon
Edwin J. Beer, Phoebe Beer, 1962
A misguided march-of-progress examination of the birth of this most hated of artificial fabrics. Mr. Beer was one of the team responsible for bringing crackling, itchy sheets and sweat-binding shirts to generations. The reason he alone was burdened with the production of this work is that everyone else had very sensibly died by 1962 - quite possibly because producing rayon involved taking regular lungfulls of good healthy carbon disulphide. Brief recollections of National Rayon Week, at which a "Hero of Rayon" was appointed, make you realise that life in the 60's can't have been all that great.

"And what is cellulose? I don't know, it used to be polyose of monosaccharoses"

Traditional Embroidery of Portugal
Maria Clementina Carneiro De Moura, B. T. Batsford Ltd., c. 1950
Jesus, not B.T. Batsford again. The people who brought you The History of the Concrete Roofing Tile and Introducing Expanded Polystyrene were also responsible for the appearance of this magnum opus. In fact, this one bears a quite eerie resemblance to the seminal Handicrafts of the Finnish Women, and everything I said about that applies here. It does however differ in the inclusion of enormous fold out patterns, none of which ever seem to have been used.

"The country from north to south was scoured to collect material"

A Treasury of Australian Cookery
Anne Mason, Andre Deutsch, 1962
Probably the most nausea inspiring cookery book ever published, this surely can't really reflect what people in Australia (or indeed anywhere) actually eat. The many photographs are rendered either in truly sickening vomit-outside-the-kebab-shop technicolor, or shades of grey which resemble nothing so much as the inside of a drowned sailor. The recipes themselves run the gamut from the dull (tomato pie, which really is just a tomato pie), to the disturbing (brain and walnut pie). Seemingly labouring under the delusion that anything is edible if pressed into a ring shaped mould, the author also inflicts such horrors as Fishy Half Moons and Rabbit Brawn on the poor reader. The whole sorry enterprise is summed up by the illustration of a Pacific Grill, which appears to comprise a series of animal penises, unceremoniously thrust through pineapple rings.

"Pumpkin Butter...children may like it on bread for tea"

Tug-of-war Annual 1979
Tug-of-war Association, 1979
If you thought a tug-of-war was just some people yanking on a rope, you're wrong; at least so long as nothing's changed since 1979. Unbelievably lengthy rules and regulations ensure doubters realise that a tug-of-war competition is as fraught with complication as any other sport. Also includes black and white photos of the key U.K. teams. "Isle of Oxney, Kent (560 kilos)" appears to be captained by a zombie, and there are some criminal perms on show, but apart from that, this one is well worth ignoring.

"Boots must not be faked in any way"

Tuna
Hiroshi Nakamura, Fishing News Ltd., 1969
The favoured staple for dieters and hungry cats alike is picked over in this admirably dull fish text. In the view of John Marr (who was tasked with writing the foreword), the chief contribution of the book is that it's been translated from Japanese (yeah, great, thanks for that), so now everyone outside Japan can enjoy it too. The migration, sizes, and global distributions of every type of tuna - from Bigeye to Yellowfin - are picked over, but tins of Whiskas aren't mentioned anywhere.

"The cold water tongue disappears in April and May"

Ventriloquism for Beginners
Douglas Houlden, Kaye and Ward, 1967
This is definitely one of the creepiest books I own. The cartoon adorning the cover sets the scene, with a miniature man suffering the inevitable hand-up-the-arse. Ample illustrations of the odd homunculus which the author refers to as "my partner" manage to make the skin crawl from the first page, and the photo of a disembodied ventriloquial head is truly the stuff of which nightmares are made. Even worse, the same head reappears to gurn into the camera in the section entitled "six different expressions" (all of which look the same). For those on a tight budget, the "talking mitten" (oven glove with a face drawn on in felt tip), and the even more economical "talking hand" (hand with eyes stuck on, a little wig, and a lipstick mouth) offer further disturbing options. If this doesn't scare you off ventriloquism, nothing will.

"I hope you will come to regard your partner as just as much a living person as I do mine."

Weaving and Other Pleasant Pastimes
R.K. and M.I.R. Polkinghorne, Harrap and Co. Ltd., 1949
The oxymoronic title would rightly put most people off this guide. Messrs Polkinghorne entertain the hard bitten remainder with chapters on making animals from bog-roll, weaving, and spinning. By chapter eleven, the authors evidently realised the desperate boredom they were now responsible for, and attempted to enliven proceedings with "weaving songs, stories, and games". They failed dismally.

"Take seven pieces of number four cane about sixteen inches long". Then go down the pub.

Wooden Spoon Marionettes
Audrey Vincente Dean, Faber and Faber, 1976
Essential reading for anyone with a surfeit of wooden spoons, a cheap laugh for everyone else. The principle here is that you can make entertaining puppets from wooden spoons with stuff glued on. Anyone who saw Button Moon as a child will be familiar with the major flaw in this concept, i.e. that whatever you make still looks like a wooden spoon with stuff glued on. Even putting that aside, "Fairy" still looks like a freak, "Pop Singer" looks like some sort of inflatable love doll in spoon form, and "Bouncy Bird" looks like nothing on earth. All those pale into insignificance, however, in the face of "Fat Old Queen" and "Expanding Clown", who has the enviable ability to "grow in size out of his trousers".

"The stringing of the dog is a little more complicated."

The World's Strangest Customs
E. Royston Pike, Odhams Books Ltd., 1966
"Men are strange creatures...women are stranger" opens E. Royston Pike, before promising the reader a freak show of epic proportions. "freaks of outrageous fashion", "body mutilations", and "mental aberrations" are all on show within. However, the author also lumps in the Moslem pilgrimage to Mecca, the cave art of southern Africa, Jewish circumcision, and anybody with a tattoo for the point-and-poke treatment. Having alienated most of the population of the world, the author then wisely gives the whole thing up. Oh, not before having a pop at the American Indians though.

"The men paint their bodies (dirty and grease encrusted as they generally are)"