Letter From The Other Side; from Cynthia --Bookshops.


Dear Del,

I do love bookshops.

From the moment I step over the threshold I find myself in another world as I riffle through small books with quirky titles, large tomes that may be handy after I’ve read them for holding the back door open, drool over gardening books and ignore cookery books because I know I just can’t fit another on my kitchen shelves. I stop by the psycho babble self-help books and usually after perusing the titles usually find I’m past the age where I think any of them can make an improvement….. The kids have given me a stack containing the words ‘healthy ageing’ which I have at times found very interesting and have kept ready for returning them when our well meaning children come up against their fiftieth birthdays with a thump. I glance at the astronomy section knowing Teddy would stop dead in front of it, giving the impression he had been super glued to the floor.
Usually I dally in front of the biographies hoping to find someone of interest and then I move on to the humour section and open up something which will have me gurgling and giggling with delight.

Looking around I feel amazed that so many new writers and authors have found the thousands of words and new ideas or research to put between the covers of them all. I also feel quite surprised there are still brave editors and publishers willing to pay to print them. I’m aware the self-help range is lucrative and the sports personalties that have done well in their chosen sport and can find good ghost writers are a paying area, but it is gratifying to find publishers still willing to try and sell good novels and unusual subjects to the public. It gives a lie to the popular thinking that reading is as pastime is being superseded by electronic books.

My favourite book shops are those that sell used and second-hand titles. Here I can look for authors’ no longer in print sometimes finding little sentimental notes written inside the covers which give an indication of the person who first owned the book. Sometimes I feel quite sad to see a favourite title I’ve read sitting among the preloved books looking pristine and fresh as if the pages have never been opened and enjoyed. These places are treasure troves for me and not just because of the books. It is always fascinating to discover the personalty of the person behind the counter.
Obviously they all share a passion for the written word but that is where the similarities appear to end.

In a village not far from here we have a dithery type of woman. She clucks around behind her customers chirruping away happily about this and that giving the impression she could have been Miss Marple’s nitwit sister.

In another, there is a large woman who never moves from her chair and your progress around the dusty shelves where spiders and silver fish live out their lives peacefully, is accompanied by the click, click, click of her knitting needles. She knits some fascinating shapeless looking things in horrendous colours. I’ve never seen her wear any of them so I presume a hapless relative has to say “Oh how lovely’ when they receive the results.
Then there is another shop I like to go where the owner appears to have just stepped out of the teacher’s staff room of St Trinians School. She really knows her books and her stock and I would never dare to contradict her opinion in case I was made to write out ‘I must not be rude to my elders’ a thousand times. She always has a few of my favourite authors so I steel myself for each visit and make sure my shoes are polished and my skirts are straight.
One of the most fascinating of owners I have met was a previous owner who lived in our village. During the 1970’s he had an ‘alternative lifestyle’ store when the words really meant what they said…….. One would think the way these words are bandied about nowadays that the last generation came up with them and it is a new concept.
His, was one of the first in this area however and all the people who had fled to the country in the attempt to enjoy a self sufficient life or join a commune would pass through his doors seeking books on meditation, vegetarian cooking, how to care for various stock and how to make mud brick houses etc. In other words everything of the period when we were all making love not war.

The city folk and the holiday makers who still lived conventional lives would arrive for their summer holidays or winter skiing holidays and be rather taken aback when the proprietor of the alternative bookshop gave full vent to his alternative lifestyle by dressing in beautifully co-ordinated ladies clothing each Saturday morning and walk the length of the shopping centre greeting one and all while flinging his caftan and braided hair provocatively.

It was quite a sad time when he sold the business and retired to live his dream. Although, it did give the lady who liked to ride into town on her pet milking cow during that same decade the opportunity to gain the full attention of the visitors. The reason being that while riding a cow is somewhat unusual not many people did it wearing from the waist down a Mexican riding outfit. Fewer still did it while being from the waist up with the exception of a sombrero hat, completely naked. It was positively astounding when a person witnessed her well developed body for the first time.

I believe her cow riding days are over and the lady now resides quietly in a retirement nursing home. I wonder if she shares her memories with others and they look at her in disbelief and scepticism.

I’ve heard of another second-hand place this week which I haven’t visited. I must make sure I go to see what treasures are there. Life is still full of discovery isn’t it?

Cheers from Cynthia.