In 1921 Barnett Freedman, the subject of the Persephone Post this week, went to the Royal College of Art as part of 'an outbreak of talent', the phrase used by Paul Nash to describe the group that included Edward Bawden, Eric Ravilious and Enid Marx (and of course, but not at the Royal College, Tirzah Garwood). Ten years later Freedman had his first major commission, this Sassoon jacket, going on to illustrate dozens of book covers, including the cover for the original edition of Marjory Fleming.

The SPAB recently highlighted some houses desperately in need of rescue. But they also highlighted one that has been rescued - Double House in Bristol. It dates from the 1730s and the Osmond family bought it in 2016. James Osmond has written a blog about the years of renovation here. Persephone brings books to life and not far away in Bristol he has brought a house back to life in a fascinating and admirable way.

The final dream of the week (because tomorrow will feature a house that has already been rescued, and most wonderfully) is Denver Hall, Denver, Norfolk. It's 1520, has nine bedrooms and five acres and would be totally preoccupying and life consuming. But so worth it. Details here.

Whitfield Place in Wolsingham, County Durham has been 'done up', perhaps done up too much (although perfectly unobjectionably) and at least here is an example of a house which has been rescued and is ready to be lived in in a 21st century way, details here, by a new owner. The building, which is mentioned in Pevsner, dates from 1677 and has many fascinating details including a salt cupboard and an open-well staircase up which Charles ii is said to have ridden his horse.

Let's all have fantasies of going to live  in beautiful Scotland and devoting our days to restoring an amazingly historic house. The one that needs rescuing today actually has its own Wikipedia entry – House of Memsie (also known as Memsie House) is a Category A listed house in Aberdeenshire. It dates to around 1760, and was the home of the Fraser family for 300 years.  All this could be a Persephone reader's for around £400,000. Details here, although happy to see that it's 'under offer' so let's hope it's a SPAB member who will restore it lovingly.

As readers of the Post will know, in our view there is a huge synergy between neglected books and neglected buildings. This is why we reprinted The Sack of Bath and this is why buildings appear so often on the Post. This week, five buildings highlighted by the SPAB (Society for the Preservation of Ancient Buildings) that need rescuing, you might almost say reprinting, in any case restoring, bringing back to life. First a Grade II Iisted house in Buckinghamshire which dates from the 17th century and is in 'a sadly dilapidated condition'. What a rescue project this would be! The house is £275,000 which is not too bad but of course the main cost would be restoring it to a livable condition. Details from the estate agent here.

Recently someone decided that Dorothy Canfield Fisher had links with the eugenics movement. In all our research into her life and work we have never discovered anything even faintly reprehensible about her. She was an absolute ideal and of course one day, when the single critical voice has vanished, she will be finally seen as one of America's very greatest writers, far far more important (in our view) than  eg. her contemporary Willa Cather. But then she is not a modernist and this condemns her. It's enough to know that Eleanor Roosevelt, another saintly person who could probably be discredited if one tried hard enough, considered her one of the ten most influential women in America. This is what she wrote in November 1958 when Dorothy Canfield Fisher died: 'I had never known Mrs. Fisher intimately, but I read her books with constant interest and pleasure. There is one volume in particular which I often read aloud to many groups of young people because of the wonderful lessons it teaches. It illustrates so well how blind we can be in our relationships with one another. Mrs. Fisher was a woman of great spiritual perception, and for many years it has given me comfort if I found myself on the same side of a controversial question with her. We might discover ourselves to be unpopular at the moment, but in the end our position would probably prove to be the best one, I felt, if she believed in it. She had been ill for a number of years and had retired to a point where even her close friends had not always been able to see her. And if I, who knew her so slightly, feel such a sense of personal loss, I realise how sad those who had the privilege of knowing her so well must feel.'