Tuesday, January 12, 2010

My Old Friend

A book is like a garden carried in the pocket.

Chinese proverb
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For me, one of the most poignant moments in all of grand opera is in the last act of Puccini's "La Boheme." Four men live together in a cold attic apartment in Paris. One of them, Colline, decides to go out and sell his overcoat to buy medicine for his roommate's very ill girl friend in the hope of keeping her alive. He sings a short but sad farewell to his coat, the friend who has kept him warm and whose pockets always carried the poetry and philosophy that he loves. "Addio. Addio."

It brings a lump to my throat every time I hear it.

A few times in my life, for various reasons I have had to abandon my library. I love books and I hope that wherever mine have ended up they are loved as much I loveed them. But there is one book I have never parted with. It sits at my elbow when I am at my desk. If I go anywhere for more than a day it goes with me in my back pack or suitcase. It is one of my dearest friends.

I bought it brand new from a bookstore in Harvard Square, Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1957. It's almost as old as I am. I paid $6.50 for it. You can barely read the price, written in pencil on the inside. I wrote my name underneath the price in red ink which is still quite visible.

It's a small volume, very small considering what it contains. It's 7 1/2 inches by 5 1/2 inches and 1 inch thick. In all the bookstores I've been in over the years, I've never seen another copy of it. It was printed by Oxford University Press in 1947.

It is in very threadbare condition due to age and use. I've taped the inside of the hard cover to the pages, but the tape on the outside spine is coming loose again. The pages are very thin India paper and fortunately I haven't torn any of them.

What is it? It's my complete Shakespeare. And it is complete; all the plays and all the poems, including all the sonnets in one small volume. Shakespeare is a divine gift to the human race, and no matter what English professors and stage directors do to it, it remains a rare treasure, recognized the world over.

This book has been a continuous inspiration to me for 52 1/2 years. I need a magnifying glass to read it now, but, so what? Falstaff, Lear and Juliet still come alive whenever the book is opened. I would never part with it. If, heaven forbid, I had to move suddenly this book would be one of the first things I would grab.

I love it. It's my old friend. It's the garden in my pocket.

DB
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WINTER QUESTION
(This is not a contest.)

Given the resources and opportunity, what one thing do you want to do in 2010 that you've never done before.

You have all Winter to answer. Answers will be posted on the first day of Spring.
12 responses so far.

DB - The Vagabond

3 comments:

Bonnie Bonsai said...

DB, I'm glad you mentioned Shakespeare. When I was in high school, I hated our Literature class. Not the subject but the teacher who was not patient with us in our slow and lack of understanding of the old English English, if you know what I mean.

If that English Literature book was published in simplified and easy to understand English like we have today, I would be the first to love it!

If it was not for my girls, I would never enjoy and love Shakespeare.

His works are down to earth. He touches life. Real life. Life that is relevant to our present day life. Life that relates to us.

He shuns no emotion. Real emotions. Not a sugar-coated emotion.

Anyway, glad that you still have that book with you. I was 7 years old when you purchased that book. Maybe I can have it one day? Kidding.

Bucko (a.k.a., Ken) said...

What a great treasure you have in that old friend.

Judith Ellis said...

DB - I so understand that quote. When I have read a book and loved it. I carry it in my bag just to whip it out at any spare moment. It need not be old, but I have integrated it so that it becomes an intricate part of me. This is a lovely post of appreciation and remembrance.