British Library

Up, and to the British Library. This is the statue that stands in the forecourt.

It was the last day of the exhibition of the Royal Collection of Illuminated Manuscripts and I wanted to catch it. For once, I succeeded.

Of course it was all in the name of research. Writers excuse a multitude of sins, extravagances and jollies under the name of Research. Would-be writers soon learn to adopt the same justification ;) but, honestly, I wanted to find something I could include in my putative novel, Exiles.

But never mind that, the intrinsic beauty of the books and scrolls exhibited was breathtaking. The delicacy and artistry and sumptuous luxury of the manuscripts was without parallel. Even the highest resolution reproductions cannot do justice to the fine tracery and detail in the finest of them.

I wonder if today's super-rich are intelligent enough to commission a modern day equivalent? However, recalling some of the expensive tasteless tat on sale in Harrods to people who have so much money they have no need of taste or a sense of proportion, I fear not.