There’s a thrift store near my home that has a wonderful selection of books—both new(ish) and antique. Thrifting of anything—books, vases, jewelry—requires patience and frequent visits. Many times I go and find nothing of interest. But more often than not I’m able to find a few treasures. Sometimes the most amazing items are right there in plain view attracting absolutely no one’s notice. I’m always amazed when this happens. I see people pushing carts with mounds of stuff in them right past the most precious pieces in the store. The things I like aren’t very popular. I’m lucky that way. I always have been.
Books, in particular, are bars of gold. I like the hardcovers the best. They feel good in my hands—solid, substantial—and look dignified lined up on the shelves in my reading nook. I expect, though, that the day will come when hardcovers (or softcovers for that matter) are no longer produced. What, then, will libraries look like?
I remember going to the library on campus when I was in college and staking my claim on a little table in a dim, forgotten corner. It was there that I spent hours studying and dreaming about my future. That little table was surrounded by tall cases holding hundreds of books, many of which were old and had likely been untouched for years. I wonder…could they possibly still be there? I myself never pulled a single volume from its shelf, let alone read it. I was acutely aware, though, that I was surrounded by millions of words conveying thousands of ideas, and because they had been written down, those ideas were real and enduring.
My library at home is much smaller, of course, than that of the college—just a nook with a pretty window and cases crammed full of books I’ve acquired over years. There’s an overstuffed chair and an excellent reading lamp, and I’ve determined that spot is the warmest in the whole house. It’s where I go to read and to think my thoughts. I’ve lived many lives up there.
It’s getting harder to find space for new books, but somehow I manage. Besides, I want to create a similar reading nook in my Springfield cottage, so it’s impossible to have too many. My latest acquisitions are stacked up neatly waiting for their new homes on my shelves. I’ll spend my winter reading them. Is there a better way to hibernate until Spring?
This week’s thrifted titles:
- Miracle in Seville by James A. Michener
- Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare by Stephen Greenblatt
- Lindberg by A. Scott Berg
- Cleopatra and Antony by Diana Preston (I actually bought this a couple of weeks ago. That’s what I’m reading now)
- No Man is an Island by Thomas Merton
