Chapter 7: Books, Books, Books!

I wait with anticipation:  my breath abates, my heart races, my fingers twitch, my muscles tense and relax and prepare themselves to hold books upon books upon books.  I’m ready, ready for the annual Symphony Association Book Fair!!!

Every year, the local Symphony Association hosts a book fair as a fundraising event.  Normally, you and me might think, “No thanks, I’ll pass this one by.  Who needs old books with ripped pages and food stains?”  Well, friends, you’re in for a treat.  As you walk in, your head swivels from side to side as your eyes locate the “Trade Paperback” section.  Your legs carry you to the shelves that house rows and rows of practically brand new, current titles.  I really don’t know how they do it!  But they do, and it’s AMAZING! 

This year, I saw my future self.  She came with her husband and he was pulling books he knew she would like (ahh, so sweet, yes?).  Then she checked The List, a multi-sheet catalog of every book they owned.  If The List lacked the title in question, the book dropped into the large bag hung from her shoulder, to be added to The List for next year’s excursion, I presume.  I agree, it’s a bit on the dorky side, but you have to admit, it’s also highly effective.   

I use this opportunity to grow my library, the to-be-built-by-my-learning-to-be-handy-husband kind of library complete with built-in-bookshelves, a glowing fireplace warming my precious kitty, and a worn-leather armchair covered in my favourite wool blanket which sits beside the table holding my peppermint-infused coffee.  Yes, I like to dream. 

Here’s a glimpse at this year’s collection: 

Aren’t they great?! 

As always, I often go back to my stack of books and flip through the pages, smell them, stare at them. . . .Over and over again.  It’s the most wonderful time of the year!

Chapter 6: Let's Tinker Around for Awhile

If ever I could rebel against my last book with its less-than-engaging narrative, reading the current novel would be my act of dissidence.  Paul Harding’s story of a dying clockmaker, Tinkers, not only tugs at the reader’s heartstrings, but requires your focused attention as it weaves its way back and forth in time connecting the lives of grandfather, father, and son.

           

            The story begins with a dying clockmaker.  In his last hours, both waking and hallucinatory, we travel with George through some memories of his childhood, in particular his relationship with his father.  From here, we travel with George’s father, Howard to his childhood memories and the life of his father.  All three men tinker in their own way, either fixing clocks or selling door-to-door trinkets.  Howard says “I am a tinker.... Is it not true: A move of the head, a step to the left or right, and we change from wise, decent, loyal people to conceited fools?  Light changes, our eyes blink and see the world from the slightest difference of perspective and our place in it has changed infinitely” (pg 131).  Add an additional layer: each man also struggles, or tinkers, with a lack of paternal love.  As a reader, you longed for the father just to caress their son, to acknowledge their presence, to not leave without a word.  When the opportunities for these actions and emotions pass by, the sense of sadness is tangible.

           

            Harding shares his story and vision with the most exquisitely beautiful language.  Just the process of hearing the words flow together (in my head, of course.  I don’t read out loud, silly) brought a smile to my face.  Combine that with the deeply probing meaning behind those perfectly combined phrases, and I’m in literary heaven.  To prove my point, here’s a quote that immediately struck me: “be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it “ (pg 74).  Not only does this sentiment calm any twinge of depression that lingers in your mind, but it also scrapes the surface of meaningful religious undertones.  In the Christian view, men and women, although created in God’s image, ultimately fall short of this perfection.  However, the grace of God provides continual love for each and everyone of us . . . .even though we have done nothing to deserve such love!  Such subtleties permeate Harding’s novel and provide never-ending sentiments to soak our souls.    

            I would not classify Tinkers as an easy read.  Its brevity makes it attractive, but the complexity of language and astuteness of the content requires focus from the reader.  I think, even I, yes I, need to re-read this book to fully appreciate all that Harding offers. 

            And as Harding says “Everything is made to perish; the wonder of anything at all is that it has not already done so. . . . The wonder of anything is that it was made in the first place.” (pg 126).  Like this book, it has an end, but it was a gift to have enjoyed it for the time that I did and I hope you do too.