Books are delightful society. If you go into a room and find it full of books - even without taking them from the shelves they seem to speak to you, to bid you welcome.
William Ewart Gladstone
This made me think immediately about how friendly books seem to me. Just as Mr Gladstone says here, whenever I see them I feel as if they are welcoming me, inviting me to spend some time, open them up, peruse a few pages; or to simply take one in my hands and go and sit down and disappear for a while.
They just seem friendly. For which I am grateful. As I immediately connected to the notion of welcome and interest and excitement and companionability that resides in a room full of books for me, I stopped to think it's probably not so for everybody.
For some I suspect they are just books. Just things that are there. Some might be interesting, some might not, but I've got other things to do and maybe I'll take a look, but maybe not. The ho-hum, take it or leave it kind of response.
For others I imagine there can be a bit of a fear response - anxiety around what's expected of them by the books; are they going to struggle to make sense of the contents, the words, the subject? The sadness I feel when I know there are folk made anxious by books is palpable. How I wish we could all be friends with books.
I wrote recently of the joy of meeting a bookshop after hours; I am sure if we closed the door and turned the lights out and pretended we had left, we'd hear them all talking a little bit more...
Part of the SketchBook project Library in Brooklyn, NY. Totally inviting, welcoming and whispering...
William Ewart Gladstone
This made me think immediately about how friendly books seem to me. Just as Mr Gladstone says here, whenever I see them I feel as if they are welcoming me, inviting me to spend some time, open them up, peruse a few pages; or to simply take one in my hands and go and sit down and disappear for a while.
They just seem friendly. For which I am grateful. As I immediately connected to the notion of welcome and interest and excitement and companionability that resides in a room full of books for me, I stopped to think it's probably not so for everybody.
For some I suspect they are just books. Just things that are there. Some might be interesting, some might not, but I've got other things to do and maybe I'll take a look, but maybe not. The ho-hum, take it or leave it kind of response.
For others I imagine there can be a bit of a fear response - anxiety around what's expected of them by the books; are they going to struggle to make sense of the contents, the words, the subject? The sadness I feel when I know there are folk made anxious by books is palpable. How I wish we could all be friends with books.
I wrote recently of the joy of meeting a bookshop after hours; I am sure if we closed the door and turned the lights out and pretended we had left, we'd hear them all talking a little bit more...
Part of the SketchBook project Library in Brooklyn, NY. Totally inviting, welcoming and whispering...
Hi Fiona, what a great post, l love books too, sadly l dont read as much as l use too and my bookshelf is full of so many that l still need to read, but in saying that, l do always have my head in some sort of Calligraphy book, so l suppose l'm still reading, and as much as l love the modern world of computers and the like, there is nothing better than having a good book in your hands
ReplyDeleteI love the feel of a book in the hand Kate - one of the reasons I make them I'm sure!
Deletewhen in need of solace a visit to the local bookshop always soothes my soul
ReplyDeleteAbsolutely Mo - just wandering, touching, picking up, smelling, turning pages, reading, turning over, putting back, picking up...
Deletemmmmmmmm boooooooooooooks
ReplyDeletemmmmmmmmmmm!
Delete