Of Books and Men

 

Friday was extra calm at work and the kids were kind to my limping self. It was an enjoyable day and I still have energy to carry 3 boxes of Deseret Books delivered at work. I decided to transfer them in one box, put it in a sack and proceed with my usual public transport adventure as I do every single working day.




I enjoy reading books but I enjoy buying them more than anything. I like the hunt more than the bounty. I browse on sites hours and hours on end. I marvel at the magic of speedy posts and thinks DHL is the new Superman. When I get the books, I arrange them in my library. After a day or two I slowly choose one to read.
Taking my sweet time, like slow-simmering spaghetti sauce so it thickens like no other. Like braising diced pork for an hour more than the recommended cooking time. Knowing full well that the result is extra tenderness, the extra flavour.

I decided I love books at a young age. We were surrounded by it not so much with toys. The latter, we just make do with what we have. We mostly run around and play house anyway so we did not really need any fancy plastic packed colourful cooking sets, but up to this day I do stop at Toy Section in the malls and just stare. How I would have loved them when I was young. But it turned out well, I redirected my sight to books. I am also proud to say Barbies and dolls never, ever appealed to me.

When I was ten my mother founded The Children's Garden Learning Center. It started as a pre-school but through the years it became a full-pledge Elementary School. A great one at that.

When the school was very new I get to help my mother open boxes and boxes of Groiler Books, Disney Books and Dr. Seuss Beginner's Reading Books.

How I love them. I just close my eyes and I could still smell and touch the crispness of newly published book. I adore the stories and read them out loud to my younger brother and sister. My parents always asked us to be gentle with books. Papa always told us that if the book is for sharing we need to look after them, no dog ears and no forced flipping. Do not ever write on them. And absolutely no ripping. (It is mortal sin to rip a page off a book!) I grow up valuing books.

But it's another story if the book is your own. Bring in the high lighters! Like textbook or in my case my scriptures. Papa said that if a line or a paragraph touches us, we can highlight it for easy sighting when needed. If you look at my scriptures now you can see that it proudly sport coloured pages and lines. Like a badge of merit. I marvel at how much easier I am able to find what I needed when preparing a talk or a lesson at church. I like that legacy. He also gave us this wonderful lesson of underlining a hard word in a newspaper and checking the dictionary for its meaning. I can honestly say he helped me in my english much more than all of my school teachers combined.

I love that over time I am still able to remember a lesson learned from just glancing at yellowed lines. How Papa's voice is still audibly clear. How I just close my eyes and can see him in their bedroom reading the Book of Mormon, bathe in orangey lampshade hue.

I went through phases wherein my choice of books vary. There was this stage where I rent books from a friend whose family collects Sweet Valley High, Sweet Dreams, Mills and Boon, and other Romances. I want to develop my english vocabulary skills and this, I thought then was way entertaining. I was happy devouring them one book a night. It went on for a little while but when I stopped, there was no looking back. Over the years, I would like to think that my taste has improved   :-) Romance books sober for 23 years.

I have the obligatory (read: books to impress) New York Times bestsellers and what have you. I even have hardbound copies of books that I have not even opened from the original packaging because I just couldn't make time. One day I'll read them I say. I think they were purchase because it was in the famous list and I want to know what the fuss is about, but not just yet. Through the years they have been demoted to the lower end of the shelf. On top are always my childhood books in newer versions. Right next to them are DESERET BOOKS. I believe they contribute to a better me.

My love for books drove me to recreate my happy childhood. I bought all the Dr Seuss and Disney stories that I have enjoyed all the years. I buy them in bulk, take some to my work or share them to families and closest friends at special occassions. Once I saw an Oprah episode and witnessed how she does the same to pregnant friends. Who would have thought Oprah and I have this in common?

A few years ago when I discovered Amazon.com I looked for an all-time favourite of my young brother King. "The King, the Mice and the Cheese".

Viola! Amazon got them. I bought 3. One for him one for me and one for my work. On my next visit home, King's face was of childlike delight when I gave him my gift. He just passed the Bar then. I reckon it was a breath of fresh air - a bit of escape from all the SCRA books and other stuff that he has to know off by heart. I know that from time to time when the going gets tough, he only has to open this book and it will take him back when stress was non-existent.

My Mano Longkoy (Enrique, Jr.) was the genius in the family. He who was a scholar at an early age was schooled in far-off Manila since he was 12 years old. Every Christmas break he comes back with new ideas and books for us his younger siblings.  Aside from his good example of reading the Quad (Scripture set of Holy Bible, Book of Mormon, Doctrine and Covenanats & Pearl of Great Price) There were Hardy Boys (nope, no Nancy Drew, thanks.) He gave me a book by Trina Paulus, "Hope for the Flowers". Khall Gibran's, The Prophet, Antoine de Saint Exupery's "Little Prince." I loved them. There were also endless paperbacks of Roget's Thesaurus, Speed Reading, Og Mandino, even some self-help books that early on! One was titled: "I can, I can, if I want to, but I don't, so I won't". That became my mantra when people ask me why I do not drive in Melbourne. There were other books and they made me feel as if I was a scholar too because I read what he read. He also got me Sanrio Stuff just in case the books were not interesting enough. (That same year, Papa gave me from his travels "Diary of Ann Frank." I was so proud of that book. I lent it to one of my classmates who took it as her own and never returned it.)

Mano also suggested we read as a family at 6 pm every night. It worked for a while but not much afterwards since Papa's clients come anytime and also Fordeluna was invented. But Mano always assisted us in oral reading of newspapers and encyclopedias. I can still see the darkened corner of the house with the lamp on. I miss that time. I miss when my family was complete and we laugh every day.

Come Spring I will do my yearly culling. I cannot travel light in this world, I have enough load for 3 mules and a tent. But I can unload for charity every year. Clothes and furnitures can go anytime but nope, not my books. Rich knows this, so he built me shelves to accommodate my growing family. They literally are. Each one has a background story, a history how it got here and it deserves retelling each time. I have no favourites.

Almost 2 years ago Rich and I went to Central-Europe. I was excited to go to their bookstores! Imagine my disappointment when Vienna, Budapest and Slovenija do not have english books! Do I want to read Twilight in Deutsch? Magyar perhaps? No thanks. So my hubby thought he'd get me a Sony e-reader. We looked everywhere. He felt sorry that I was having a reading english withdrawal symptoms. Then he finally found one.

In London. In Heathrow Airport.

It was hilarious. His excuse was he couldn't find it anywhere else.

I think he was exhausted carrying his camera equipment and my books on our trips. Lately I have enjoyed it together with Kindle, iPhone and Samsung Tab but I have to admit the attraction of holding a real book and flipping proper paper pages is long lasting than the convenient gadget. I like them in their original version.  So what if I am low tech.

Today, I just opened the half-wrecked sack that I lugged from the bus stop to my house. While the sight of me shuffling and dragging it across the road looks pitiful, not everyone knows that what lies underneath are my treasures.

I just added 11 new books to my collection. The smell of the hardcover and the glossy jackets are worthy of my wide-eyed glee. I almost made a clap. I think I did.

I have become a little child again, close to Mama as she unwrapped the most wonderful of earthly gifts one can have.

Then we're happily together again, in that dimly lighted corner of my old home.
****

“We possess books we read, animating the waiting stillness of their language, but they possess us also, filling us with thoughts and observations, asking us to make them part of ourselves."