I was once lucky enough to meet a very interesting man. An author, no one hugely famous, but still a name I knew. We got into a discussion about books and how people see them. As we sat there, in the middle of a used book store drinking our respective teas, a man came up to the counter and asked for a hardcover series. When the clerk asked which ones, he said that they'd just be for display, so it didn't matter as long as it "looked smart." And that made me incredibly sad.
For people like us they were a necessity, something that was a part of everything in our lives. A man once said that great writing inspired things; conversation, art, arguments, and the sometimes the occasional bar fight. And, for me, they do. Books can literally change how I see the world and what I look for in the world and I love that.
And I wondered how often people came to him, just to say that they had his autograph for appearance sake, rather than actually being touched by his work. So I asked the man what he thought of people coming to him to autograph his work, whether it was flattering or bothersome or what. And I asked what he saw in his own fans at times.
And the answer really struck me.
He told me that his favourite thing in the world, was to get a copy of his own book, looking beat to hell and back, all taped up and bent out of shape and obviously well-thumbed. And to still have someone asking him to autograph it, because it showed him that someone had literally taken this book everywhere with them. It was read more than once and in someone's bag or purse, like it was just as necessary to their daily life as their cell phone and wallet. He hated nothing more than a brand new copy of a book that was obviously just going right on display and would never be read again.
And you know? It's true. I look at my own bookshelf and all my favourite books, the ones I'll read again and again, no matter how well I treat them, they're all a little ragged round the edges. And now I look at them, in that condition, and feel happy that there's some proof of how well loved they are. Like a stuffie, missing an ear and patched up, but no less treasured for it.
Meru at 3:59 PM