Henry, Ribsy, Ramona and Beezus, Ralph and his motorcycle. "Henry Huggins" was the very first 'real' book I ever read, and my first library book.
Those books lit a fire that has never gone out, and I am so very grateful to her for that.
Who's your "Beverly"?
There was this bookstore down the street from where I lived. Really it specialized in antiquarian books, and really it was something for the old lady whose family used to own the mill when there was a mill to do. I don't think any of the very impressive and very expensive old books ever left their display cases, and I doubt she expected them too, East Bumfuc, The South not having an abundance of bibliophiles and all. I started going there for the comics when I was around 10, and eventually she started just handing me books along with them. Lovecraft, Dunsany, Robert Anton Wilson, Martin Gardiner, old math books she picked up when buying out library and estate sales. She had a box of old Shadow pulps waiting for me one day, because I'd talked about Houdini once and she remembered Walter Gibson had ghost written most of his books. She'd charge me for the comics, but not the books she gave me. She did the same for everyone I knew who came in regularly; not horror, weirdos and math, but stuff they'd be into. I didn't think to ask her why until I was a teenager; "I think you'll give them a good home" was the best answer I could get out of her. On reflection, I have her to thank for a lot of my obsessions. She moved away to be closer to her grandchildren when I was in the 10th grade. She left a sign on the door explaining that and saying something along the lines of "the rent is paid until the end of the month, I left the door unlocked, help yourselves!"
I think all bookstore owners are eccentrics, though maybe not as much as her. My local used bookstore now is run by an old guy who used to be active in radical politics, won't talk about how, but he knew Bill Ayers, Abbie Hoffman and William S Burroughs and gets really, really angry when he talks about J. Edgar Hoover for reasons he likewise won't talk about, his daughter, who I've never heard speak but is a hugger, and a small army of cats.
It was my dad. I'm glad I was born before the internet took off. It must be so incredibly hard these days for kids to get interested in books or for parents/teachers/others to spark the interest for long form reading. My dad only had a small collection of books, but was an avid library member. I have so many fond memories of visiting the library every month. Even better when we moved and our house was on the same street as the local library. Thanks for this post. I haven't read any "joy" books in the last 18 months, only technical, work related books. Going to remedy that starting tonight!
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I had to read C.S. Lewis, because. I read most of the 'classics' but then they accidentally introduced me to Heinlein and Harlan Ellison (yay libraries with reading rooms). Big mistake to throw that kind of bait to a budding nerdling. I think the series I first fell for, the one that made me realize that words on dead trees can be more than the sum of their parts, was E. E. Smith's Lensman books. They are in that 20's-30's EVERYTHING! EXCITING! style, but the stories and settings all hold up nearly a century later. I inhaled everything science fiction I could get my hands on.
Yes!. I mentioned my dad had a small collection of books - the only ones he let me read were his E.E "Doc" Smith books. I think the rest were too adult for me at the age of 10/11. I devoured them and I'm sure that's where my love of science fiction started. There was a great comment on Hacker News in the discussion yesterday about Towel Day. The golden age of Fiction is 12.
There were no book stores when I was a kid. The library was a mile walk. But the grocery store was only a quarter mile away and it had all these books. What the hell is it about? There's an awesome skull - the sorcerer's ostensibly - and a buff man and his pet tarantula about to get into a fight with a greenhouse. Perhaps it has something to do with Time Bandits, which my father decided I wasn't old enough to watch. There's very obviously a "#2" on top of the book, but I bought it anyway. And read about a third of it, and then decided I probably ought to read the first book, despite the fact that it looks ridiculous: Which is how, in second grade, too young to watch Blade Runner, I found myself reading an orgy scene involving a wicked sorceress riding a rhinoceros for its dildonic powers. Beverly Cleary it ain't and, even at the ripe old age of 8, I could tell it wasn't good. I mean, talking spider named Krek. I still read all six books by the time I was in 3rd grade. Made the Chronicles of Narnia seem, well, juvenile.
Those books look awesome. 'Cenotaph' is one of the words I'd never come across before moving to NZ; there's a prominent one at Auckland's war memorial museum.
Weird sex things in books your parents weren't suspicious of because books must be like finding porn in the woods. Mine was the kids having sex in the sewers to ward off the monster in Stephen King's It. I am sure if I were to read it again that scene would make much more sense than the "and then the children spontaneously decided that getting it on would save them from the monster, and indeed it worked" I remember, but I don't think I want it to.Which is how, in second grade, too young to watch Blade Runner, I found myself reading an orgy scene involving a wicked sorceress riding a rhinoceros for its dildonic powers.
Yeah, King is always good for a little weird tail at inappropriate moments. I think It was 6th or 7th grade for me, by which time all the chicks were reading Flowers in the Attic which, while I've never read, is a really weird fuckin' movie so It wasn't any great shakes. Fuckin' Flowers in the Attic, man. WTF.