Books

Stepping into a room full of books at your disposal is a wonderful experience. But there are other things which make the experience even more amazing. Natural sunlight is always a plus. The quality of the books makes a difference too. If the books are old, but in good condition, there is a subtle historical vibe: you are aware (maybe only in the back of your mind) that hundreds, perhaps thousands of hands have turned those very pages. Perhaps someone held that very book fifty years before, and sat in the same spot, enjoying the same story. And your one connection is that book.

Sometimes I notice handwriting in a book that says something like "Lois Henderson 1706 Park Lane" and I'm tempted to drive by the house to see if it's still standing. Sometimes I notice names written that are "ethnic", and this gives me an idea of how long ago it was written. Certain neighborhoods haven't been Polish or Jewish or Irish for many decades.

I notice the font, the style of the illustrations, whether "William" is abbreviated to "Wm." I notice the smell of the books, and whether the tops are dusty. I notice the other people who are browsing, and if a person has hair that is gray and unruly, and he wears collared shirts and eyeglasses, I assume he is a professor. I never chat with the other browsers; I assume they are like me, and wish to be left alone to enjoy the books. If they wanted to chat they would have brought a friend.

An old book store with used books is a sacred space where almost everyone is alone, but not lonely. For me, the loneliness seems to stay outside the walls of the book store. I feel comforted by the presence of so many books, and the sounds of pages turning, or the sound of an old wrinkled professor coughing.

If I can find a chair in a fairly quiet area of the book store, near a window, I feel like I am experiencing a foretaste of Heaven.