Saturday, October 10, 2009

Old Books

Two schools of thought this girl subscribes to:

  1. I like my books, wine and beer well done enough to be background noise to the story or drinking experience. I want the words or the taste to be subtle and to not draw attention to themselves, so I can go about the business of being caught up in the story or just enjoying a drink.

  2. But I also like a book, wine or beer with a strong note of identity to it. Scott and I did some wine tasting at the apple orchard this year, and the wines that caught my attention and made me want to buy them were the ones that had a singular flavor. That stood out from the crowd. I've definately had my share of book crushes that were based on the words the author used, as much as the actual story, which in those cases becomes secondary in importance. It's the poet in me I think.

I have read several great stories lately, books where I can't really comment on the quality of writing, except to say that it didn't get in the way of what I really wanted, which was the story.

I wanted to mix in some juicy words, and so I reserved Metamorphoses by Ovid from the library. Imagine my delight when I picked it up and it was this antique copy, printed in 1922 and first checked out in 1947? Luscious!

The preface reads,

The eastern skies of modern thought are flushed with the dawn of a Classic
revival. The transient dark agse of dollar education, finding neither
comfort for the present nor hope for the future in such rewards as gross
materialism affords, turn eagerly to the morning light of the ageless

Hard to believe that was written in 1922, it sounds to pertinent to 2009.

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