I perused the shelves.
Signs offered these books for sale or trade on the honor system. The bindings of many looked loose. The covers seemed faded and worn. It was as if the books themselves, exhausted
by poor handling and all who had read them, had grasped one final opportunity
for someone to read and love them. “Look
at me,” they cried. “Please, take me
home with you!”
Callously, I ignored their calls and walked “inside” Bart’s
Books of Ojai.
I found myself surrounded by alcoves, and hallways formed by
bookcases. All were sheltered directly overhead
by corrugated fiberglass panels. Some areas
required electric lights to illuminate the titles. I wandered through a wide selection of subjects
and categories, each identified by hand-drawn cardboard signs. Several times, a staff member offered to help
me find whatever I might be looking for.
A few customers sat beneath umbrella-covered tables, reading or chatting
as they enjoyed the drinks and snacks Bart’s also sold. After finding nothing I wanted in the Fiction
area, I headed for the Science Fiction section.
A few years ago, when I subscribed to Writer’s Digest, I
remember the magazine proclaiming that something on the order of 200,000 books
were published in the English language every year. That’s 200,000 titles, multiplied by all the
copies of each title printed. Despite
the rise of electronic publishing, I suspect the number of books printed each
year, whether they be hardcovers or paperbacks, has risen since then. All those books have to go somewhere, and
some will inevitably be thrown out or otherwise destroyed.
Libraries and bookstores cannot hold copies of all the titles
ever printed. Even when owners and
communities care for their books, time, the elements, and disasters still take
their toll. Little survives of Pliny the
Younger beyond his letters, and their existence was probably insured because he
writes about the eruption of Mount Vesuvius, and because he speaks of
persecuting and executing Christians. Aristotle’s
philosophical works have profoundly shaped how we view and interpret the world,
yet only roughly a third of them survive.
SFWA Grandmaster Robert Silverberg has bemoaned that so few of the dramas
written by ancient Greek and Roman playwrights are still available. And me?
I was looking for copies of the four novels Martin Caidin wrote about
Steve Austin. I’ve had trouble finding
them in bookstores. Where better to look
than Ojai, Steve and Jaime’s hometown?
Nope. Nothing by Martin
Caidin, whether Steve Austin-related or otherwise.
In perusing the Science Fiction section, I found a few books
that interested me. When I pulled out
the copies, they left a dusty feeling on my hands. As I’m allergic to dust and dust mites, I
reluctantly put them back. Perhaps I’ll
find them elsewhere.
Bart’s Books helps readers of all ages find books and
stories that can add value and joy to their lives. Where I to live in Ojai, I can envision many
happy times sitting at those umbrella-covered tables, discovering a new book,
sipping my favorite drink, and enjoying the company of my fellow readers. But I can’t help thinking about those tired
and worn books outside, or the ones “inside” that were slowly disintegrating
as I held them. I know that nothing humans
create can last forever. Yet I can’t
help thinking that those books, the products of creativity and hard work by
thousands of authors throughout the course of human existence, deserve a
little more protection against the elements. Just a little bit more.
What do you think?
Dragon Dave
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