April 26, 2004
A basic grasp of the concept
Back room of a used bookstore in Phoebus (You can't see it, but there's a toy zeppelin hanging from the ceiling.)
South Mallory and Mellon, Hampton, Virginia
My journalistic tendencies were in abeyance: I didn't write down the name of the bookstore or the street address. You can find it if you want. Take I-64 east through Hampton, Virginia and take the last exit before the tunnel. Follow the signs for Fort Munroe and you'll find yourself in Phoebus, a charming neighborhood outside the fort. The bookstore is on Mellon, among various antique shops and a few empty storefronts.
We pick up a couple nice books, including an old (it's at Oz's house, I don't have the date) hardback copy of Kim by Rudyard Kipling, from the racks out on the sidewalk and wander into the store. We see books, lots and lots of books. Tall shelves filled with books—lovely Victorian editions of Tennyson, modern hardbacks from remainder stacks, the Bobbsey Twins—vaguely arranged by category. Stacks of more books sit on the floor in front of the shelves, making the lower ranks inaccessible. Hand-lettered paper signs are stuck on the stacks: "Books in stacks not ready yet" and "Not quite ready" and on a cluster of six foot tall stacks, "If you see something you want in the stacks, please ask for assistance."
The back room has five shelves of books on railroads, three shelves of old mechanical engineering and machinery books, and two shelves on the occult—twice the shelf space allotted to physics. One of the occult books, The Encyclopedia of Ancient and Forbidden Knowledge, by Zolar was heavily consulted by its former owner, who made notes with page numbers on the flyleaf: Tea leaves reading & symbols pg 337, Astral plane 104, #126, Artificial Enities [sic], #132 Nostril breathing, Physical corps [sic] 114…
On my way out, I stop in a side room, where I spy a two foot high stack of Life Magazines, marked "Sold, do not touch!" In this room, the tops of the shelves are full of old toys in not the best repair, "Items on top shelves not for sale yet." I find an almost fifty-year-old copy of Lolita, bound in bright blue with faded gold letters. I open it up and find that it's a French translation.
Ah. Used bookstores.
389 words | April 26, 2004 08:42 PM | Lost in translation