Of Fervour, Dreams, and Books
Something happens to me in bookstores.
Be them old, new, borrowed or blue, when in a library or other place heavy with book shelves, I feel like I am home amongst friends. Although I may have never graced those floors before, I see the old familiar titles on the shelves and I’m calmed. No matter how I felt before walking into the store, once across the threshold I am alive with possibility, awake with new meaning, open to new destinies.
If exercise or caffeine is not doing it, it’s my equivalent to popping an upper.
I feel like each book I’ve read is an old friend. It may sound strange, but I have never guaranteed sanity. I see lots I recognize, oldies but goodies. Jane Eyre, Tess of the D’ubervilles, The Mill on the Floss, Catch 22, Catcher in the Rye.
Oh yes, these I loved once.
I hear of people who have read Jane Eyre seventeen times – who are you and what do you do for a living? I would like to reread these just once, but the stack of books beside my bed is already impinging on the light from my bedside table. Rereading these classics would mean missing out on many others.
So many books, so little time.
Walking amongst the stacks I see many more that I long to spend time with, but haven’t found the opportunity – yet. War and Peace, Atlas Shrugged, Freedom. Your time will come.
On the bestseller wall live more recent friends: The Thirteenth Tale, Through Black Spruce, Secret Daughter, Half of a Yellow Sun. We were intimate, myself and these words. I fell in love with them, and they with me, and we sailed off into the sunset. It was lovely.
Not entirely impervious to chick-lit, some of these titles holler to me, reminding me of a time when my attention span was thin and my reading time competed with sleep. The desire to sleep usually won, but when it didn’t I turned to The Nanny Diaries and Sophie Kinsella’s books for silliness and comic relief.
Even the children’s section displays buddies from days gone past, other cherished times. Watership Down, Oh the Places You’ll Go, James and the Giant Peach. Less time consuming and appealing to my children, I have been able to relive these classics. Fewer words but still big in spirit and meaning.
I have a dream.
It involves sitting and reading for a long time.
God, I so share this dream, Deanna! I love this post, as it describes me, as well, almost perfectly. There is just SO much good stuff to read–who has time to reread? Thanks for sharing your love of something I too adore! How fun!
Katy
I look forward to reading a bound version of your memoir one day, Kathy.
I’m with you on the re-reading, Deanna…I don’t have time for that! My “to read” pile is also very large…
Even though I co-own a bookstore, I read very little compared to when I was younger…I hope to have more time once the kids are out of the nest…
Wendy
Co-own a bookstore? Meaning unfettered access to books at all times? Lucky, lucky you!
Yes, but I usually don’t have time to read at the store…there are lots of other things to do!
Nicely said, Dee – My ideal job has always been to work in a bookstore – if i could read all day for days, and help connect people to fantastic books, I would be very happy! What is that stack beside your bed? looks good!! Ellie
Thanks El – you can probably make out the biography of Mordecai Richler, on the bottom, others are: The Feminine Mystique, Dropped Threads (a collection of essays by women writers), The Corrections, Untied (biography of Meredith Baxter), to name a motley few! My book club just chose Bossy Pants by Tina Fey, so looking forward to adding that to the top of the pile…
Bookstores have become my sacred Mom Place. At least once a week, I sit with coffee in a bookstore, all by myself, for a wonderfully peaceful break!
Smart woman – a great idea, love this.
Believe me or not.now a days whenever i feel like reading something but dont know wat to start with, wen im n office-jus check ur blog..read..use to get a gud frame of mind to carry on wit my reading..tis s one such post..lov tis…