If you’ve seen photos of my flat before, you’ll know Mr D and I are addicted to buying books. We have now added even more to our collection, after dropping by our local library book sale on Saturday morning. The ones pictured are my favourite finds – I was so excited to find an old Penguin Agatha Christie. I had never heard of ‘The Liberation of Lord Byron Jones’ but I couldn’t not buy it with that fabulous 60s font, and it does actually sound really interesting.
Amongst others I also bought The Children’s Book by AS Byatt, Smoke and Mirrors by Neil Gaiman, South Riding by Winifred Holtby, Empire of the Sun by JG Ballard, Letters of Dylan Thomas, The Crimson Petal and The White by Michel Faber, and (ahem) Mary Poppins by PL Travers.
The room was so full of books it was actually hard to move around (I dream of situations like these), but we had to contain ourselves and stop browsing once our arms were full.
As we were paying for our loot, we noticed that right by the doorway a woman had a pile of books she was sorting through, getting very much in everyone’s way. A meek-mannered old man from the library asked if she could move somewhere else to sort out what she wanted, and she reacted by whining in a high pitched voice ‘well there isn’t any roooom, where are people supposed to goooo?’. The gent gently suggested she could move into the foyer, to which she shrieked ‘Oh, and then I’ll be accused of STEALING I suppose!’ and huffed off. The grey haired lady serving us looked extremely flustered, and said in a tone of shock ‘I didn’t know that someone who reads books could be so violent’!
So there is my myth-busting for the day. Even people who like books can be nasty sods.