On dust and books.
~ August 12, 2008So in my adventure into our garage for old squirt guns (to paint up and turn into steampunk-y weapons), mum and I came upon six old boxes full of books. I love books, of course, especially old ones. Naturally, this was exciting. The first book was actually on top of the boxes, and was GIGANTIC. As I was pulling it out, I exclaimed "Holy..." and then I saw the cover: "Holy Bible." How else should I finish the exclamation but with "...Bible!" I think this should be a new exclamation. "Holy Bible!"
Anyway, we endeavored into the boxes, and found many sets/collections of books. One that spanned nearly all six boxes was a collection of works from Sir Walter Scott. I found this the most interesting, not because I'm interested in Scott (sad, un-literary me), but because they were the type of old books with pages that need to be cut in order to be read. The extent of my literary sophistication, thanks to AP English, does include reading The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, and I very vividly remember a passage that describes Gatsby's library:
It’s a bona-fide piece of printed matter. It fooled me. This fella’s a regular Belasco. It’s a triumph. What thoroughness! What realism! Knew when to stop, too – didn’t cut the pages. But what do you want? What do you expect?
Yes indeed. As far as I can tell (I did not go through EVERY book, but at least eight), they have never been read, because all the pages are uncut. My mum's great uncle Frank was the owner, and he was a dentist, so I imagine he was trying to have an impressive library. Five boxes included other sets like "Letters from American Presidents" or something to that effect, biographies of Washington and Lincoln, books on government, and another set: The Harvard Classics and Fiction Collection. There were also a few volumes of leather-bound "American Cyclopaediae" (yes, I typed that right, they weren't encyclopaediae), but they didn't look very interesting.
The fun stuff came in the very last box: Hawkins' New Catechism of Electricity. Oh yes. Copyright: 1896.










