Last night, in the twilight of a hot summer evening, six of us discussed books - the books read for pleasure; the books read because we want to keep up with current enthusiasms; the books read because they inform our hobbies and passions; and the books we have to read for work, for passing exams, or for academic research. Sometimes the categories overlapped. Then the question arose as to how we chose the books to take on holiday.

 

Apart from the 18-year-old, who thought his iPod would keep him happy and, anyway, books were heavy, there was a feeling that having a fair amount of surplus time, without most of the usual obligations of work, household (and church?), we could simply read for pleasure. However, some of us weren't entirely sure what we meant by pleasure, a measure of how difficult it was for us to relinquish the pressures of a driven life.

 

So, what shall I take on holiday? A couple of books by my favourite authors - Donna Leon, for the feel of Venice and Italian food; Patrick O'Brian, for the intricate details of ships and the lives lived in them and for the humour; a best seller to see what others are reading - The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, probably.

 

The Bible encourages us to take holidays - God commands us to take one day in seven, although sometimes it may be one hour now and again, and an annual holiday. We should take time to relax, to engage with significant others and enjoy their company, and to take pleasure in our world, created with such loving attention to detail and with such glorious over-the-top generosity.

 

So I take maps, a guide to the local area and easy to carry books on natural history. I love the way humans, with amazing detail and loving systematic ordering, name things and categorise them, and stick little symbols on maps, and measure everything. So the surveyors of the Ordnance Survey, who check every boundary, every right of way, field and hedge, and those who describe every petal and every insect, are doing Adam's work - for God invited him to name each living creature, and told the humans to have dominion over life on earth.

 

When I see a dandelion, I'm glad that in the universal Latin of biology, it is called teraxacum vulgaria. And when we walk a path into a deep dell, I'm glad the map tells me it was a quarry and the guide book tells me the stone was used for the local manor house.

 

What will you be taking with you for the long leisure hours?

 

Margaret Killingray is a writer and a part time lecturer and tutor at LICC.