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On losing books, rediscovering them, and treasuring them

On losing books, rediscovering them, and treasuring them

On losing books, rediscovering them, and treasuring them

Recently, the British media reported the story of a lady who discovered a book she had owned in her childhood for sale in the shop of the Museum of English Rural Life. She recognised The Secret Garden Ladybird Children’s Classics as hers by the hieroglyphics penned on the inside cover – a secret code she and her sister had devised.

The lady bought the book (for just one pound) and said of her find: “When things work their way back to you, they were never meant to leave you in the first place.” (Source.)

This story got me thinking: about books owned over the years, about books lost, about how much we treasure books and why.

One of my most vivid memories of childhood is my father coming home one day weighed down with boxes. Like any inquisitive child, I was desperate to know what they contained, and when he opened the flaps of the first box and showed me, I was astonished – so many books! At the time, various contacts of my parents were leaving Egypt for political reasons, and they were forced to give up many of their possessions, including all these books. My father ‘rescued’ them, and added them to our (already sizeable) collection.

I wonder now about the owners of those books. Were there books in those boxes with sentimental value? Did they ever miss their lost books?

Sometimes we don’t know that a book is of importance to us until it has gone. Like the lady in the news story, I can recall so many wonderful books from my childhood I would love to hold in my hands now. I remember books I loved and then loaned and never received back (I soon learned my lesson: buy a second copy to loan). I think of the French literature I studied at university and wish I still had those study books in my collection. I think of an old, somewhat battered copy of Jane Eyre I once left on a train – irreplaceable, because it was my first copy of the novel.

I love all the books I own, and it is true that I ache for some of the books I have lost – and I use the word ‘lost’ deliberately, for it does feel like a loss. We have such a special relationship with books. Would we be so delighted to find a scarf we once wore for sale in a second-hand clothes store? I don’t believe so. A scarf is a scarf, but a book is so much more: solace, inspiration, education, escape.

I am reminded of the Ernest Hemingway quote, “There is no friend as loyal as a book.” To find a once-loved book is to find an old friend. That friend is unerringly loyal, always there for you, waiting on the shelf to provide comfort and pleasure.

The obvious conclusion is to be just as loyal to that friend – to treasure books, keep them with us. But of course, if you are like me and are compelled to buy more books, and more, then that could result in quite the collection: books in every room of your home.

Sounds rather wonderful, actually, don’t you think?

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