First, the reminder that Sunday afternoon is our bookstore event with Traverse City artist Glenn Wolff. Again, that's from noon to 2 p.m. Books, notecards, posters, and a gift to each Wolff book purchaser. See right-hand column for details, if you’ve somehow missed the blitz of publicity on my blog recently. As Northporters and 2013 bookstore visitors know, I don’t have quite the space up front for holiday decorating that I’ve had in years past, so this year my “tree” (thanks, Mom!) is not quite 11 inches tall. It does light up though (from the inside), and the even light changes color. (Don't ask me how.) I’ll try to make up for the absence of a real tree on Sunday (and that good spicy fir tree smell) with the presence of home-baked cookies. (Blogger, what is it with you and the parentheses today, anyway?)
Looking at another bookseller’s blog earlier today, I realized I’ve been rather neglecting the historic nature of my larger collection, so that’s where I want to put the focus today. Old books. To me, they're treasures, and sometimes I don’t do enough to showcase them to casual browsers. I mean, a lot of these are classics! To begin under a fairly broad umbrella of what constitutes a classic, for example, how about the two children’s books below?
You remember Eloise, don’t you? She lives -- by herself, mind you -- in the Plaza Hotel in New York City.
Eloise book is pretty pricey, but The Littlest Christmas Tree can be taken home, tax included, for under
$10. And can you believe no child has yet written his or her name inside this 1954 Wonder Book by popular children's author Thornton W. Burgess?
|Detail of book illustration|
|Book slides in and out of slipcase|
Then a sweet old volume of essays by the incomparable Charles Lamb. Book spines and covers just don't look like this any more, more's the pity.
|Ordinary old book cover|
But my big excitement earlier this week was taking delivery of a mammoth box of old books on Michigan. Unpacking, pricing, shelving -- such are the joys of a seller of used books, and great her satisfaction as she stands back to admire newly restocked shelves.
|Small AND local!|
David and I were saying only this morning how fortunate we feel not to have workplace politics as part of our lives. Neither of us -- he, the artist, and I, the bookseller – have either bosses to please or employees to oversee. Sometimes, though, I sigh over the concept of retirement. Yes, it’s only a concept, as far as my life is concerned, but I would love to spend a year reading in a more focused and continuous way, being transported back 50 or 75 or 100 years to Michigan’s past.