Taft Garden, one of my two favorite places to read on campus.
When I come to school every year, I insist on bringing books with me. When I go away for a long time, I take at least one book with me. And not just books I haven’t read. I have a tattered paperback I bought in eighth grade with money from chores, one that I’ve read at least a half dozen times now. When I’m sick or feeling terrible I can go to its worn comfort and re-read it. I got a new, hardback, of A Curse Dark as Gold, the book in question, for Christmas, one of many other new volumes.
A partial view of my bookshelf over the desk
The book is a retelling of Rumpelstiltskin, set in a well-researched eighteenth century town in a fictional psuedo-England. The touches of darkness, the bargaining, the ridiculous and unwise bragging, all remain, but the injustice of the original, the cruel king and the foolish father benefiting while nothing is said of the girl, not even her name, those elements are changed. While I’ve always liked fairy tales and had heard Rumpelstiltskin my fair share of times on my own, I had never adored it the way I did some tales, but I loved the retelling, unequivocally. It had a stubborn main character, too stubborn and practical for her own good, villains with personalities and motivations; ones with whom I could empathize. It is certainly not my favorite book, but it is my favorite to read when I need comfort. For me, books can often give comfort. Just knowing I have a book to sweep me off to somewhere else is a comfort, even if I never open it.
My favorite place to read in my room, complete with a few books
I surround myself with books not only as comfort, but as a way to learn, as a way to enter someone else’s world, if only for a few hours. I learned words, feelings, empathy, and experiences from reading as a child, and I continue to cling to stories, both ones I remember and new ones, to soothe me, to challenge me, and to remind me of both the enormity and the inconsequentiality of my actions and self.
The words and worlds of books are a place I love. A good story, a folk tale, a literary triumph, a dictionary; all can enrapture me for hours, so even having them near me brings comfort.
Not to say that I am the only student at Bryn Mawr with a sizable library–far from it. In fact, since 1980, Bryn Mawr has hosted an annual book collection competition, one that this year, for the first time, I plan to enter.
Unloading the car on dorm move-in day:
Me: “What do have packed in here, rocks?…Oh yeah, never mind.”
Amelia: “Rocks *and* books!”
Books can be magical. I agree that they can be a comfort. I, too, find comfort in my books both old and new.
Reading a book on an ipad or other device certainly serves a purpose but nothing can take the place of a book in hand with the printed word running across the page.
May you always find the comfort in a book.
I enjoyed reading about books and their meaning in your life. As a child I loved reading and always had a book in front of me it seemed. In college there was enough reading with just the Course work. As a result, I didn’t read very many books for fun for many years. As I have retired, it is once again a wonderful relaxing activity. I hope you don’t get derailed as I did!