Books Books Books books books books booksbooksbooksbooksbooksbooksbooks (&cetera [in a shop!])

I was down at Goodyear getting an oil change today* and, while I waited, walked over to a local bookshop which is (bonus!) a pretty good bookshop! (Hi, Morris!) This makes visit #3 for me to this particular shop, and I’m getting better. I even made an awkward joke** with a clerk. (A lot of my job is confrontation, and I’m not bad at my job, so I should be used to it, but if I am new to a store, I am often cowed by the prospect of talking with people. At the shop today I saw Nikky Finney‘s new book, which I’ve heard good things about, but didn’t check it out because someone was standing near it.)

Anyway, finding myself in a shop I of course, like you, found myself thinking of a great passage from Italo Calvino. (Of course like you. Why not like you?) It’s about the searing melodrama of book-buying!

You have forced your way through the shop pas the thick barricade of Books You Haven’t Read, which were frowning at you from the tables and shelves, trying to cow you. But you know you must never allow yourself to be awed, that among them there extend for acres and acres the Books You Needn’t Read, the Books Made For Purposes Other Than Reading, Books Read Even Before You Open Them Since They Belong To The Category Of Books Read Before Being Written. And thus you pass the outer girdle of ramparts, but then you are attacked by the infantry of the Books That If You Had More Than One Life You Would Certainly Also Read But Unfortunately Your Days Are Numbered. With a rapid maneuver you bypass them and move into the phalanxes of the Books You Mean To Read But There Are Others You Must Read First, the Books Too Expensive Now And You’ll Wait Till They’re Remaindered, the Books ditto When They Come Out In Paperback, Books You Can Borrow From Somebody, Books That Everybody’s Read So It’s As If You Had Read Them, Too. Eluding these assaults, you come up beneath the towers of the fortress, where other troops are holding out:

the Books You’ve Been Planning To Read For Ages,
the Books You’ve Been Hunting For Years Without Success,
the Books Dealing With Something You’re Working On At The Moment,
the Books You Want To Own So They’ll Be Handy Just In Case,
the Books You Could Put Aside Maybe To Read This Summer,
the Books You Need To Go With Other Books On Your Shelves,
the Books That Fill You With Sudden, Inexplicable Curiosity, Not Easily Justified.

Now you have been able to reduce the countless embattled troops to an array that is, to be sure, very large but still calculable in a finite number; but this relative relief is then undermined by the ambush of the Books Read Long Ago Which It’s Now Time To Reread and the Books You’ve Always Pretended To Have Read And Now It’s Time To Sit Down And Really Read Them.

With a zigzag dash you shake them off and leap straight into the citadel of the New Books Whose Author Or Subject Appeals To You. Even inside this stronghold you can make some breaches in the ranks of the defenders, dividing them into New Books By Authors Or On Subjects Not New (for you or in general) and New Books By Authors Or On Subjects Completely Unknown (at least to you), and defining the attraction they have for you on the basis of your desires and needs for the new and the not new (for the new you seek in the not new and for the not new you seek in the new).

Now go buy a book!

*I think the best part about my posts is how they grip you, right from the beginning. Admit it, in the world of this post, literally nothing says “I should definitely keep reading this very interesting post” more than “I was down at Goodyear getting an oil change today.”
**The joke involved my being willing to vandalize the bookshop.
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One Response to Books Books Books books books books booksbooksbooksbooksbooksbooksbooks (&cetera [in a shop!])

  1. Dad says:

    The inserted passage is true, true, true. Did, however, he mentioned the “books which would look good on my shelf even though I have no time or intention to read”?

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