Our Booksellers’ Christmas Picks

So you’ve been through our list of Christmas Bangers and you’re still on the hunt for something a little more unusual, slightly less on-the-nose. Well, traveller, you’ve come to the right place. We tasked our booksellers with recommending a few books apiece, books they’ll be merrily gifting this year – naturally, some of them are on the more esoteric side…

Weird Walk: Wanderings and Wonderings Through the British Rural Year

This ‘folkloric rambling guide’ encourages us to re-engage with the strange, mystical landscapes of the British Isles. Walking us through the ritual year, we journey back through time to a world of myth, magic and superstition. ‘Keep Walking Weird’ re-engages us with the seasonal customs and traditions that are entwined in our histories and geographies; takes us from Spring to Winter, from Cornwall to the Highlands, in an enchanting and hauntological re-engagement with the weird landscape we live on.

(recommended by Holly)

A Christmas Bestiary, by John Kenn Mortensen & Benni Bodker

Deep from darkest Denmark comes this an alternative graphic-novel-meets-advent-countdown. To quote the introduction directly: “Our ancestors… knew that Christmastime was a season of joy, as well as terror.”

John Kenn Mortensen and Benni Bødker have catalogued the innumerable Eldritch horrors of European (but mostly Scandinavian) folklore, ranked on a 1-5 pine cone scale of sheer dread. All the classics are here, disturbingly illustrated in Gothic pen and ink drawings by the authors: the Krampus (five pine cones) and Baba Yaga (two pine cones) and Iceland’s famous Yule Lads.

But from there on these are pretty deep cuts. And when I say deep cuts, I mean the cut that you’d really rather forget. The sort of monsters that could truly only come from the imagination of a medieval peasant like The Gloso, Gwiazdor or Saint Lucy. This is the alternative xmas book pressie for the most morbid person in your life.

(recommended by Callum)

Kafka, by Nishioka Kyodai
trans. David Lloyd

Kafka’s stories adapted in manga form – it wasn’t something I knew I needed. But I very much did need it! Kyodai’s style suits Kafka so much (it’s very reminiscent of a more geometrically inclined Edward Gorey).

These are adaptations in the truest sense: the focus is different, things are left out or emphasised, the detail in the artwork adds to rather than subtracts from the text and the choices that are made are exceptionally interesting and further evoke the beguiling, strange and unsettling atmosphere of Kafka. Perfect stocking-filler fodder for Kafka fans, manga fans, lovers of slightly weird book-shaped delights. 

(recommended by Callum)

Clive Penguin, by Huw Lewis Jones

If you thought being a penguin was easy, Clive is here to let you know that it’s actually not. It’s always the same. Same old snow. Same old bloomin’ penguins. And it’s freezing! Clive dreams that something will change, and when he makes an epic discovery one day it looks like his dream might come true. We’ve been truly taken in by this tale of a very grumpy and very stylish penguin. Be careful what you wish for, Clive…

(recommended by Emily)

Listen: On Music, Sound and Us, by Michel Faber

If you were lucky enough to be in the room when we welcomed Michel Faber to our shop earlier this year, you’ll already know just what a refreshingly unconventional music book this is. Faber is incapable of feeling nostalgia, which sets the book apart from so much conventional writing on the science and psychology of listening, and his background as a writer of deeply idiosyncratic and brain-exploding fiction ensures that this remains one of the most unusually brilliant non-fiction books of the year.

(recommended by Dan)

Small Fires, by Rebecca May Johnson

Small Fires feels like a much needed contribution to food writing, which can so often feel like an exercise in indulgence or trying to prove how inaccessibly extravagant the writer’s diet really is. This is so completely not the case with Rebecca May Johnson’s brilliantly homespun and honest memoir-slash-manual for cooking to live. Sure, it’s about cooking, but it’s also about cooking as a creative act, classics, friendship, bad news potatoes, depression, class and – very memorably – a tomato sauce cooked many, many hundreds of times over the years.

We loved how tied to life the simple act of cooking is in Johnson’s hands. She recognises that sustenance is not just the biological function of keeping people satiated; for her, cooking is an act of human connection that can evolve just as much as we do. In a way it sounds esoteric enough to be guilty of the worst excesses of so much writing about food, but trust us when we say it’s really not that book: it’s warm and welcoming but with a lot of depth – just like a good tomato sauce.

(recommended by literally everyone)

Arrangements in Blue, by Amy Key

In Arrangements in Blue, Amy Key explores, unpicks and wholly celebrates living without romantic love. Seamlessly interweaving themes with Joni’s Mitchell’s 1971 album Blue, this is a nuanced, poetic and deeply thought-provoking memoir. Key talks about building a life and a home, and passing through those societal milestones for success in a world where things are often made harder for the single person, particularly the single female. It’s an elegant and moving account of Key’s experience, including a very painful and personal experience of losing a close friend. But there’s warmth and humour, and openness in abundance, and there’s an incredible chapter on holidaying and dining solo which fully celebrates the sumptuous indulgence of solitude. 

(recommended by Emily)

Every Man for Himself And God Against All, by Werner Herzog

When you look deep into the pellet-like eyes of the master of extreme film-making, resplendent in haz-mat suit and standing boldly on the edge of a volcano, you can’t seriously lump this book in with this year’s crop of celeb memoirs. Herzog is, as you probably know, a complete one-off, uniquely and staunchly anti-Hollywood while seemingly operating from deep within its confines, and his memoir is everything you’d expect and also everything you wouldn’t. Choice details include close encounters with the wolves that stalked the woods around his childhood home, fraternal ‘pranks’ like his brother setting his shirt on fire, a detailed list of some truly heinous injuries endured in the name of filmmaking, and plenty of Klaus Kinski anecdotes. Blisteringly readable, philosophical and delightful.

(recommended by Dan)

Anime Through the Looking Glass, by Nathalie Bittinger

This is it, the ferrari of coffee table books. To be honest, I’ve been looking for something like this for some time, and finally we’ve got it. This is a mega in-depth book about all things anime, not just the Ghibli catalogue and family favourites. It’s pretty encyclopaedic. Simply beautiful to flick through (you get 150+ full colour frames for your bucks) and organised by some of the key themes of anime film: food, apocalypse, childhood nostalgia. A must have for anyone with even a passing interest. 

(recommended by Callum)

Tokyo Jazz Joints, by Philip Arneill

For the discerning aesthete (or… jazzthete?) in your life, you’ll do no better than this sumptuous and satisfying compendium of Japan’s still-thriving kissa scene, full of artful and atmospheric photographs of coffee shops and bars dedicated solely to the quiet appreciation of jazz records on high-quality audio equipment. Soaking up the irresistible atmosphere of these spaces, catching glimpses of the attentive owners as they flip a record or crank an espresso out of their vintage coffee machinery can never be quite as good as actually being there, but it’s pretty close. This season’s unexpected coffee table hit.

(recommended by Dan)

Bring No Clothes, by Charlie Porter

Fashion critic Charlie Porter’s previous book, “What Artists Wear”, was one of my personal favourite non-fiction books in recent years and ended up in our Subscription For Curious Readers and on our Storysmith Books of the Year.

His writing is just the right blend of accessible and actually-dead-interesting-and-in-depth and works as a lens through which to reassess and readmire writers and artists. In Bring No Clothes he attempts perhaps the most unique and interesting group biography of the Bloomsbury group thus far. FFO your arty amigos, fashion friends, book-ish buddies, and lovers of Olivia Laing, Virginia Woolf, and the thinking person’s humanities-focused non-fiction book. 

(recommended by Callum)

Spin to Survive: Pirate Peril, by Emily Hawkins

The “Spin to Survive” series (thus far: Frozen Mountain, Deadly Jungle, and now Pirate Peril) are literally some of the most awesome books we stock. Not just some of the most awesome kids books we stock. Most awesome, full stop. It’s the kind of book that once you’ve spotted it, you can’t put it down. You hold it to your chest, vaguely quivering with anticipation.

This is a fully interactive pirate-themed narrative adventure determined by a spinnable survive-o-meter (not it’s actual name, that just what I choose to call it) in the centre of the book. Throughout the Tintin-esque adventures you’ll learn real survival tips and genuine history factoids!

(recommended by Callum)

The Hard Switch, by Owen M Pomery

The Hard Switch is the highly anticipated sci-fi graphic novel from Owen D Pomery (architectural artist turned comics writer) – and it lives up to the hype in a big way! The story follows a rag-tag bunch of interstellar scavengers (two humans, one octopus) in a vast universe which is about to get much smaller. The galactic civilisation is on the brink of fuel scarcity, after which interstellar travel will be impossible (except for the very rich)… unless? FFO Star Wars Original Trilogy, Firefly 

(recommended by Callum)

Storyland, by Amy Jeffs (Children’s Edition)

From magical stones in Scotland, to the giants of Stonehenge and dragons battling in the Welsh mountains, Amy Jeff’s Storyland explores the magical myths of Britain, and the legends that have been passed down through British folklore. Each chapter portrays a different story of monsters and magic, fairies and beasts, and the landscape that has inspired them. Jeffs contextualises each section with historical facts and information, and the beautiful linocut images throughout really bring the stories to life. We love this new edition for children; it is a celebration of nature, history and storytelling and is the perfect gift to inspire storytellers of all ages.

(recommended by Emily)

The Glutton, by AK Blakemore

If you know someone who actively wants to be repulsed by their reading material this Christmas (and we’d count ourselves in that), A.K. Blakemore is back with another act of ornately inventive historical re-imagining – this time she is tackling the compellingly ick-worthy true-ish story of Tarare, the Glutton of Lyon, AKA The Bottomless Man, whose legendary capacity for ingesting anything placed in front of him turns him into a wretched legend. The prose is stunning and the chewy subject matter is irresistible, relayed by the titular Glutton himself from his hospital bed to the unsuspecting Sister Perpetué – think Amadeus meets Sayaka Murata written with surgical, exacting attention to detail.

(recommended by Dan)

Brian, by Jeremy Cooper

Brian follows the gentle day to day of a BFI regular called (believe it or not) Brian. Struggling to find a place or any feelings of belonging, Brian turns to nightly trips to the cinema. Becoming a part of his carefully crafted daily routine, Brian also finds new community alongside his fellow film buffs. Through a genuinely heartwarming and subtly humorous plot we learn to truly care for Brian and his particular, considered habits.

Alongside the narrative, Cooper also gives us considered moments of film criticism, that both stand alone, and add to richness and fulfillment Brian gets from his love of the cinema. Both an appraisal of art, and the wider community it fosters, ‘Brian’ is sure to please film lovers and those just looking for a gentle Christmas read. It’s also chock-a-block with indie-film recommendations, so what’s not to love?!

(recommended by Holly)

Termush, by Sven Holm
(trans. Sylvia Clayton)

Perfect for the sci-fi crate-digger in your life. You’ll know the premise from plenty of other post-apocalyptic novels from across the 20th Century – an unnamed disaster of some kind, much radiation, catastrophes unceasing etc – but few authors have tackled the formula with such grace, darkness and intrigue. Termush is the name of an imaginatively luxe hotel complex for which only the very wealthy have been able to make reservations, specifically to outlast the fallout of the aforementioned unnamed disaster. Inevitably outside forces seek to penetrate the inhabitants’ paid-for safety and, of course, bad stuff ensues, but Holm’s blunt, almost sterile prose drapes the perfect veil over the unfolding terror. If you liked Kay Dick’s They, or Megan Hunter’s The End We Start From, you’ll want to make a reservation.

(recommended by Dan)

How Does Santa Get Down the Chimney?
by Mac Barnett & Jon Klassen  

Klassen & Barnett are back! And this time, tackling one of the real humdingers, an age-old question, troubling generations of Christmas virtuosos: how does Santa get down the chimney? In their trademark comical and quirky picture book style, Mac Barnett and Jon Klassen shed some light on the quandary; perhaps he folds himself like paper, or gets a handy push from his reindeers?

(recommended by Holly)

Negatives: A Photographic Archive of Emo (1996-2006)

This is less of a “Callum is going to buy this for someone” and more of a “Callum is secretly hoping someone buys this for him” — so secret admirers, take note! Negatives is an absolute whopper of a coffee table book on all things from the late 90s-early 2000s emo scene, including American Football, Christie Front Drive, Hot Water Music, Jets to Brazil, Cap’n Jazz and later emo-iterations in the form of Fall out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Paramore and countless others. Phwoar!

(recommended by Callum)

Dog Hearted: Essays on Our Fierce and Familiar Companions

As a bookshop dog I often struggle to find depictions of dogs in literature that aren’t overly sentimental, silly or suffer sad and often brutal endings. In these essays, the significance of dog companionship as I understand it is truly explored. Not only the loving and devotional sides to our personalities, but the fierce and beastly ones too. This collection does for canine literature what texts like Girl, Woman, Other have done for depictions of womanhood – unpack, re-align and re-animate. It’s a nuanced portrayal which I entirely welcome, the multifarious voices combining through the body of the text to conclude that dogs are, y’know, just great really.

(recommended by Roy)

Buy every book on this list and save 10%!

Our Subscription for Curious Readers

If you’ve gotten this far, you probably quite like our taste? But our top gift is always our subscription for curious readers. It’s the gift that keeps on giving: basically a Storysmith-endorsed recommendation every month.

How it works:

Every month the recipient will receive a hand-picked new book in the post from us. It’ll be something we’ve loved in the shop, recommended to countless friends and customers and spent ages chatting about. From forgotten classics and cutting-edge curios to prize-winners and underground hits, we think you’ll love our selection.

You can select either a fiction or non-fiction package (or you can alternate), and we’ll include some useful notes from us, as well as some delicious coffee from our friends at Triple Co Roast (roasted close to us in Bristol) to sip while you devour your latest read. It’ll slide through your letterbox every month, all in a beautiful hand-stamped bundle.

We also do subscriptions for babies! It’s just like our adult subscriptions, but specifically designed for very new readers! They make a wonderful gift for newborns and babies aged 0-12 months: the perfect way to start a library of colourful, exploratory and enriching books.

Check out some of our previous subscription picks below…