I’m a fan of a certain type of book, the ultra-local nostalgia-fests that have names like “Memories of Ward End”. They’re not heavy with detail, not well put together normally, but they’re beautiful in their sheer ordinariness. They provide the wonderful mundanity to go with the pompous history of the rich, but there’s absolutely no reason why you should care if they’re not of a place you care about. Alton Douglas has long been the Birmingham master of the “photocopied old bus ticket anthology” market, his books have a careful artlessness I enjoy. They seemed to have started quite wide a “Memories of Birmingham” and got progressively more niche, down to “Memories of Erdington Shoe Shops Between the Wars” (well almost). Which is why I’ve just spent far too much money on one on ebay: Yes, “Dogs in Birmingham” (worryingly I discover available for 7p on Amazon) a book containing photos of dogs, in Birmingham. Now the usual format of these books is a scrapbook-style rampage through the archives at the Post & Mail for pictures of an area of subject. Areas work best, everyone goes “ooh remember what Small Heath used to look like” (pretty much as it...
