I do not own pristine books.
I am not a book collector, not in the way for which some organizations award prizes at least. I acquire books because I want to read them. As long as they are in readable shape, I’ll take them. This is one of the reasons I have been grabbing books from the free boxes in from of Michael’s Books in Bellingham. This is why I attend the Friends of the Seattle Public Library’s massive book sale frequently. These books are free or cheap for a reason. They are beat up. They are discolored. They are missing dust jackets. They have inscriptions and notations in them. If you are trying to make money, don’t try selling them to a used book store. They won’t take them.
I will. They are readable.
I generally try to keep my books in good condition, but I don’t go to extreme lengths. I snack when I read sometimes. I drink tea or coffee. I’ll mark my place by turning a book face open and down over the back of the couch. Sometimes I turn down a page corner. I don’t purposefully mess with the books, but on occasion something goes wrong. I spill my coffee. The book falls off the back of the couch and pages crumple. Thing happen. And I don’t fret about it.
There’s one thing I have never purposefully done though. I’ve never broken the spine except through simply reading a book a lot of times.
Until today.
I wrote last year on this site about my mom’s diagnosis of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. She has bulbar onset A.L.S., which means she lost her ability to speak or eat before she lost the ability to use her extremities. Since then, she has fully lost the ability to eat and uses a tube for sustenance. In January, she lost the ability to use her right hand and arm. She has to hold books open either with a book holder or by using the thumb of her left hand.
I moved near her in early December so I could help with caregiving. I stop by four to six days every week, and take care of things my step-father can’t do, like fix her computer. Today, she asked of me a very difficult thing.
Two of her books are from a small religious press. They put the books together quite well. The books do not easily stay open, and her left hand tires.
So she asked me to purposefully break the spine on these two books, so she could read them.
Let me repeat: my mother asked me to break the spine on two books.
Reluctantly, I did the deed. She’s dying, so she gets what she wants.
But this sin does not come without cost! Like a bookie, I now hold a marker. She owes me. I will collect.
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