A Romance with Books

I watched the 1987 movie 84 Charing Cross Road yesterday, and it struck me as particularly poignant considering the current state of the book business. Some people call this movie a romance, though basically, the relationship between Helene Hanff and Frank Doel is little more than a business relationship. The true romance is Helene’s love of books — not just the content of the books, but the volumes themselves.

With the advent of Kindles, Nooks, Palm Pilots, IPads and other reading devices, bound books seem to be valued less and less. Ebook readers sneer at those who profess to love the smell of the book and the feel of the pages, but the truth is, there is a mystique about a printed volume. It exists as a thing separate from its words. You can hold the tome in your hands, riffle the pages, sample a word here and there. There is a tactile connection between reader and story, linking the two parties in a very physical way.

You love your ereader. I get that. I understand you love the ease of being able to cart around an entire library of downloaded stories and novels for a minimal cost. I understand that ereaders, with their ability to zoom in (or do I mean out?) and make the words larger for those with vision problems allow people to keep reading long after their eyes have given up on them. I also understand that such reading devices are the wave of the future.

But . . . here’s my dirty little secret. (Not much in the way of dirty little secrets, I admit, but it’s the only one I have.) I don’t own an ereading device, and I have no intention of getting one until I am forced to. For me, reading has always been a Zen-like experience where I become the book. Not the story. The book. My eyes would be focused on the page. One hand would be grasping the book while the other turned the page, quite mindlessly, I might add. The book might be resting on sternum or stomach, depending on my position. And the story osmosed through my body and into my soul without referencing the words.

For most of my life, I was a constant reader. That’s all I wanted to do, so for several years I did temp work to give myself maximum amount of time to read. To feed my habit, I would take out stacks of books from the library and buy bagfuls of new and used books. Often, I would pass the purchased books on to my mother. One time, I included Oh, God in a stack of books I gave her, and the language appalled her. I shrugged it off, saying I didn’t notice. That really upset her. “I don’t know which is worse,” she said, “that you would be so blasé as not to be bothered by the words, or so naïve as to not know what they mean.”

I tried to explain to her that I didn’t read words, but that upset her even more. I suppose it does sound weird, but it’s the truth. At least, it used to be. As I got older and my eyes weaker, the osmosis didn’t work as well, and I had to start reading words. I did not like that at all! Oddly, my eyesight has changed, and I now have perfect vision about nine inches from my eyes, (though I can’t see beyond that) so I can do the Zen reading thing again, but since I have a hard time finding non-trivial stories to osmose with, I don’t read much any more. (I used to feel guilty at having “wasted” my life reading, but now I’m glad I did.)

Anyway, the point is that while some people love their reading devices, others don’t seem to find the relationship rewarding, and I bet Helene Hanff would have been such a one. All those books she ordered from 84 Charing Cross Road are probably now available free from Google books (because really, who among us except die-hard literature students like Helene would pay to read the unabridged prose of John Dunne), but reading the books on a Kindle wouldn’t be the same for her as reading a leather-bound book with gilt edging. And, although my reading tastes are much more plebian than hers, reading on a device wouldn’t be the same for me, either. I don’t see myself having a Zen-like experience with a Nook or a Kindle.

The lesson of this movie is that it’s important to do things when you can, because one day it will be too late. Helen supposedly carried on a great friendship with Frank — or at least with the bookstore where he worked — but she never once called him, never once sprung for a ticket to London until after the store closed for good. (I’m not giving away any spoilers — the movie begins with her visiting the empty store.) And so it was with me and my romance with books. If I hadn’t wasted my youth reading but waited until now to carry on my romance with books, the romance would have been over before it had even begun.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of the conspiracy novels Light Bringer, More Deaths Than One, A Spark of Heavenly Fire, and Daughter Am I. Bertram is also the author of Grief: The Great Yearning, “an exquisite book, wrenching to read, and at the same time full of profound truths.” Connect with Pat on Google+

About these ads

9 Responses to “A Romance with Books”

  1. joylene Says:

    I love books, and you’re right I do feel a connection to the actual book. I especially love the old ones. But I’m growing to appreciate eBooks too. Mostly because several great authors have chosen to only publish in that format. And, because I live in the bush, I can access new books any time I need to, instead of waiting for the mail or for a trip to the city. Best of both worlds.

    Loved the movie.

    • Pat Bertram Says:

      As you say, there are a lot of books available only as ebooks. If I ever get back to reading, I will be forced to get an electronic device. With the international aspect of the book business thrown in, I can see the worth of an ereader. With a few clicks of computer keys, someone halfway across the world can get the book without postage or currency exchange worries.

  2. Cathy "Elaine Garverick" Gingrich Says:

    Hi Pat,
    Although it’s been awhile since I’ve commented on your blog, I always read them with interest. I noticed a physical resemblance to us right away, and this latest blog assures me we have even more in common. I absolutely love the film, “Charing Cross”. It’s been years since I’ve seen it, but what lingers in my mind is the devotion of the main characters to the written word; to the authors, too, who were cherished for their willingness to expose their selves and ideas, risk ridicule, and even endure the physical pain that constant writing demands. I devoured picture books before I could read. And funny that my vision has also gone from extreme myopia to reading sans glasses at about nine inches. Although I have decided to publish electronically, I still love the tactile experience from a paperback book. Always good to hear from you. Cathy

    • Pat Bertram Says:

      Cathy, How interesting that we have so much in common! As for 84 Charing Cross Road, I don’t see that reverence for the written word anymore. Probably because with the advent of compters and spell check and grammar check, everyone assumes he has a great book in him.

      Thank you for stopping by. It’s always good to hear from you.

  3. rami ungar the writer Says:

    I have the same problem with e-readers! They’ll be essential for my novels, but I won’t get one until I’m absolutely forced to do so, and then I’ll need the money to buy one! As for books, I love to hold a book in my hand and read off the page. It’s wonderful, it’s been done for centuries, and I don’t see why it can’t still be done that way.

  4. ROD MARSDEN Says:

    I have a copy of the movie 84 charing Cross Road. Unfortunately, its on video tape and is aging. Even so, I turn to it every now and then when I am feeling depressed. You are right when it comes to Helene’s romance with books. She is an American and for reasons of her own has fallen in love with the history and the poetry of Britain. Her love affair with British writing touches the lives of everyone who works in that little bookshop that has managed to survive the 2nd World War and into the age of the Beatles and the mini-skirt.

    To be fair to Helene, she had planed an earlier trip to England that had to be cancelled because of the expense of bridgework. Her teeth got in the way. Also, she wasn’t rolling in money and, like myself, saving up for a trip to the UK or the USA (in my case) would be a huge undertaking. It would be worth it but it would still be huge. Yes, she left her run too late as far as that bookshop and those people are concerned but sometimes that’s life.

    When I was a kid I came close to visiting the abode of Marvel Comics in New York. Even though Marvel still exists and is still in New York, I don’t see anymore the point of going there. The artists and many of the writers I grew up with have either retired or are no more. The Marvel Bullpen is gone and I don’t much care for what has come to replace it over the decades.

    I wrote to Gene Colan (artist) at one time and got a letter back from him. I still have it with me.

    As for England, I would love to visit the Cornish Coast where Doc Martin is filmed. There are old smuggler’s roosts I would be keen on checking out.

    • Pat Bertram Says:

      Ooh. Smuggler’s roosts! What an interesting tour that would make!

      You’re right about Helene and her trip to England, but still, once her teeth were paid for and she was making better money, she didn’t seem to have any interest in going. Generally, we do (or try to do) what we value. For her, the books were the value, not the rest of it, I guess. One thing I found interesting about the movie — they never charged her postage.


I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 5,557 other followers

%d bloggers like this: