A Good Book
"When I have a little money, I buy books, and if I have any left, I buy food and clothes." - Erasmus
Desperation started to set in. I fidgeted, felt sorrow for the absence of something in my days, and that something was a good book, one that captivated me, fueled my curiosity, taught me, and surprised me.
These last few weeks, I have been leafing through past reads, willing myself to find them fresh and to forget snippets of prose that once satisfied me so they may fulfil me again. I picked up Shackletons Journey to the Antarctic, an account of the voyage to the interior of a bleak white desert. But my imagination couldn’t remain long in the frozen south, not on a pleasant evening in May. I began a novel but put it down after a few chapters. Despite the writer's efforts, the world was not one I wanted to spend time in.
I always read at night, and I read sporadically throughout the day. Knowing that a book I enjoy is somewhere around the house is a simple necessity. Without it, I am somehow less.
Recently, I had to set aside all other plans due to an overwhelming psychological need. Hunger is hunger; eventually it will consume you if not attended to. I was hungering for a good book, so I made my way to our local bookshop.
My favorite bookshop is Primm's in Kinsale. Primm's in Kinsale is a sanctuary for book enthusiasts, a labyrinth of pre-owned gems, adorned with wooden shelves extending from floor to ceiling, and brimming with vintage first editions in every nook and cranny. It’s simple and small: one rectangular room lined with books either side, one low table in the middle with front covers facing outwards, a piano, some stools, an armchair at the window, and in the back corner, young Simon Primm leaning over the counter, a whiff of roasted coffee from the machine behind him, some easeful folk music playing from a hidden speaker, and his black collie dog slouching on the floor.
If a bookshop doesn’t have a palpable sense of invitation to linger long, to sit and read, to throw your hurried mind across the ballaster like a coat and remain, then it is sorely lacking. Primm's comprehends this; it recognizes that entering the store is a genuine experience; it's a portal into the inner world, where you find yourself immersed in the company of diverse minds, each brimming with a wealth of experiences and infused with vitality.
"Books are uniquely portable magic." Stephen King
I then browsed. I navigated alphabetically through the classics, exploring biographies, history, and travel writing. I sat for a few moments to try on a few pages of titles that caught my eye, rising again and sidestepping past other book lovers in their own quiet searching. Eventually, I came across a book I had read many years ago, one that came to mind recently, and one that I felt would be a good companion for the next few days. So, I purchased As I Walked Out One Midsummer Morning by Laurie Lee. I have been reading it in short pauses, taking one chapter at a time, savouring each stage of his journey. And I’ve been reading it with the interest of someone who also enjoys writing travel stories. Laurie Lee writes beautifully.
“For as I woke that second morning, with the whole of Spain to walk through, I was in a country of which I knew nothing... But I was innocent then of my ignorance and so untroubled by it.”
I'll continue this enjoyable walk with Mr. Lee for a few more days, but then the moment will come again, the hunger returning, and I'll travel back to Primm's bookshop and step inside, not knowing where it will lead me this time.
