judging by covers
by pieces of moments
Some women buy mounds of clothes, or shoes. I buy books.
One of my favorite memories as a little girl is sitting in the living room while my mother read aloud to me every afternoon. We would each grab one piece of hard candy and let it dissolve while the stories took us to far away lands. I love books. I love the way they feel in my hand, I love what they contain, I love where they take me, I love the sound of the page turning, or the crisp crack when the spin finally bends from familiarization. I love marking my journey from beginning to end with the progression of a good bookmark or book ribbon. I love writing in the margins. I love the way sentences or words can dissolve in your imagination and melt into the fabric of your being, like the candy did when I was a kid.
Now, I love a good paperback. In fact, in a lot of ways it’s what I prefer. I like to get messy with my books – throw them in bags, bend the pages. But, somewhere in my fantasy future life I have a personal library, and the library is filled with beautifully bound, hardcover, books. Just seeing the Everyman’s Library on a store shelf makes my heart race a little bit (I know, total, irrevocable nerd). When I lived in Cambridge, I mysteriously ended up on a Library of America mailing list, which was basically like sending boxes of chocolates to a diabetic. Though, I have to announce to you with pride that I somehow managed to page through each catalogue, sigh profusely, and keep my credit card safely tucked away – even in the face of a poster of my Favorite Author Ever, “The Master” Henry James. 10 points for me.
Now, Penguin has gotten on the beautiful hardback book wagon. I have to say, they are beautifully done (and available starting October 27). Wouldn’t these look mighty nice on a home library shelf? A girl can always dream.
photo credit: Liam Goodman