The Book Shopper

Stories Within the Story #4: Monastery

by Jim Simpson

Occasionally, I attend the Sunday teaching and meditation sessions at The Drepung Loseling Buddhist Monastery in Chamblee with my wife and daughter. Near the lobby there is a table loaded with used books, hardcovers and paperbacks covering all topics: contemporary and classic fiction, non-fiction, self-help guides, poetry, Buddhist writings and Christian Bibles. All books are available for purchase with a one- to three-dollar donation. I picked up a 1954 Scribners trade paperback copy of The Sun Also Rises by Ernest Hemingway, one of my favorite novels and one I’ve read many times. What struck me most about the book was the sheer number of post-it notes stuck onto nearly every page -- the book appears to be exploding! Most of the notes refer to the symbolism of the drinking, the impotence, the fights, the bulls, the irony, the pity, and more drinking. But it was the final notation shown here that made me laugh.

Well?” indeed.

 

Editor's Note: Jim Simpson is an award-winning fiction writer and freelance music critic. A native of the wilds of Florida's Gulf Coast, he now resides on the scruffy fringes of Atlanta. He has been at work on his first novel for longer than he originally planned, and if all goes well the book should be in stores sometime before his death.

Stories Within the Story #3: The Bookmark

by Jim Simpson

I found this bookmark in a 1940s copy of the complete works of John Keats at the Book Nook on N. Druid Hills Road in Decatur. Written on the back of the bookmark are notes that mirror, to a much lesser extent, Keats’ own battles with ill health -- his issues, unfortunately, proved to be fatal.

I imagine this person reading Keats while on a cruise, jotting down helpful hints at combating seasickness. It's a good thing it was Keats and not Byron: “Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean — roll!” Also, I believe this bookmark is from the Borders Book Shop that was at the corner of Roswell and Piedmont, and eventually moved to the corner of Peachtree and Wieuca, finally closing a few years ago. (If any careful readers know for sure, please leave a comment.)

Stories Within the Story #2: Kudzu Antiques Market

By Jim Simpson

Located just down the street from the DeKalb Farmer’s Market, this antique shop features vintage clothing, furniture, vinyl albums, books, objet d’art, musical instruments, old-timey soda pop, jewelry -- you name it, you can find it here. I tend to seek out the books, naturally. I’ve found partial collections of the Harvard Classics from the early 20th century, French biographies from the late 19th century, and this:

A shorthand dictionary published in 1919. I’d always been intrigued by shorthand ever since a good friend took a class years ago, but I’d never studied it. Could this little book help me learn now after all these years? My own handwriting is so terrible, it probably wouldn’t be worth it. As I flipped through the pages, an index card fluttered out: “Margie -- I found this little volume at the Book Sale in the park - thought it might be ‘interesting’ if not helpful. John.” Another story. Which park? What Book Sale? Why would Margie find this ‘interesting’? Did John have ulterior motives?

Stories Within the Story #1: Beginnings

by Jim Simpson

It all began with this photo.

The handwritten caption in black magic marker on the back reads “Tom and Amy - April ‘65.” They appear to be in their late teens or early 20s, perhaps attending a school prom or a wedding. The background suggests the back room of a country club or a school -- you can see an upright piano in the foreground. Amy seems positively giddy while Tom oozes confidence as he discreetly tries to hold his cigarette out of camera shot without appearing ashamed -- perhaps his family didn’t know he smoked yet (because everyone eventually started smoking back then).

I found this tucked into the pages of a 1944 hardcover copy of W. Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge, a book I picked up in 1989 at a used bookstore in St. Petersburg, Florida, in my late 20s, and it’s one I still own. Yes, I am the type of shopper who finds it difficult to part with certain books. I wonder where Tom and Amy are now, if they married each other, if Tom went into finance, if his family had money and whether Amy really loved him or was simply glad to have married a rich man. Or, as in Maugham’s novel, did Tom go off to war and did his experiences in combat affect him as they did Larry Darrell in The Razor’s Edge, seeking enlightenment in India and elsewhere, his interest in money waning to nothing.

I take this book off the shelf once or twice a year, slip the photo out and look at it, and I wonder. Stories within a story. To me, it’s magic.

This is one of the reasons why I am a book shopper: you never know what you’ll find between the covers of used books. Over the years I’ve found love letters, airline ticket stubs, postcards, cookie crumbs (I hope the brown stuff was chocolate chips), unopened (thankfully) band aids, and postage stamps, all tucked between the many yellowed and brittle pages.

 

Editor's Note: Jim Simpson is an award-winning fiction writer and freelance music critic. A native of the wilds of Florida's Gulf Coast, he now resides on the scruffy fringes of Atlanta. He has been at work on his first novel for longer than he originally planned, and if all goes well the book should be in stores sometime before his death.

Throughout this week Jim Simpson kicks off a new idea for the blog called "Stories Within the Story" where he ruminates on the bookish flotsam of others that he has discovered in his literary hunting and gathering at local bookstores and antique shops. As Simpson writes, "it's for those of you who enjoy discovering that rare used book on a dusty local shelf, where the surprise 'found objects' inside are sometimes just as interesting as the book itself." (If you have any stories you wish to share, contact the blog or post them in comments.) 

Store of Yarns

Earlier this month Denise and I drove over slick roads to Chattanooga to visit some Knoxville friends who were willing to meet us halfway (that's what friends do). Our friends, Maggie, Judy, Susan, and Susie belong to a book group that has been together for over 20 years. Of course, I know that I am always welcome to join the conversation in these reunions, but I am also free to leave for a few hours for some personal guy time so the women can catch up. On my way to see Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained (a decent movie along the order of Inglourious Basterds, but not one of his best works like Jackie Brown or Pulp Fiction), I stopped by a used book store near the Chattanooga Aquarium called All Books.

By checking online reviews I was forewarned that this is a polarizing book store. Some people are appalled by the clutter and lack of services; others react positively. Not that I am that surprised by stories of surly book store owners and employees. I once published an essay entitled “Book Lovers Are Not Necessarily People Lovers,” the premise of which was that to some bookstore staff books are more interesting than people, and it can take a lot to get attention in those places.

Eighty-year-old Polly Henry owns All Books, and though books may been a former passion, that interest has clearly shifted to textiles. The book store is covered in yarn, crocheted hats, scarves, weaving machinery and (I am not going to mislead) a selection of books that can described most generously as antiquated. The only book that intrigued me was Lance Armstrong's It's Not About the Bike: My Journey Back to Life (2001), mainly because I wondered if had been heavily discounted due to his fall from grace. There may have been something else worthy of my attention, but based on my initial findings, I didn't want to risk being late for Django.

Upon returning to the hotel, I told our friends about the store (witholding my description of the Tarantino blood fest) and the next day before returning to Knoxville they spent hours there, being (as Judy described) “intoxicated by fiber.” I will leave it to them to comment more about the store.

My only remaining question is: Do I still get book shopper recommendation points for leading them to a bookstore, even though it resulted only in the purchase of yarn and knitted products?

Photo credit for inside of store: Judy Barnette