This weekend I came across an old book of collected poems that I had given to my favorite teacher in high school—an English teacher I was lucky enough to have class with for three out of the four years I was there. I have the book in my possession because he died unexpectedly two weeks before my graduation (something that can still bring me to tears even 24 years later). It was a devastating loss. He was only two years older than I am now when he died.
But this old book I had given him—I’d picked it up in a used book store in Maine. It’s an incredibly gorgeous book. Cobalt blue cover embossed with gold and black. It contains an inscription from 1883, which blows my mind in the most beautiful of ways. It’s breathtaking. I remember being so excited to give it to him—to show him this amazing book I’d found for him—which I did early in the morning before school the first day I was back. He held it with care, flipped through the pages, was awed by its craftsmanship, exclaimed over its beauty and age. He was really touched, he’d said, and thanked me for such a gift.
In his quest to share his love of words (and, I’m sure, help us out on the verbal section of the SATs) he had a word of the day on the board. He always started class the same way—he’d point out the word of the day, discuss its meaning, Latin roots, and usage. Later that same day when I got to class, the word he’d chosen was bibliophile. “It’s someone who loves books. Biblio means ‘books’ and phile means ‘lover of.’ A lover of books. It’s not just someone who loves to read, but someone who loves the physical book itself. Bibliophile.” He looked right at me, beaming. He’d chosen the word for me.
I can’t hear or use the word without thinking of him. And smiling. In part because he believed in me, taught me to question everything, think for myself, and I loved him for that, and in part because he was right. I am a bibliophile.
Are you?
Hope you have a great day!
Very touching post! Although I love my Kindle, i still have many old books and love their yellowed pages, the way the crumbling spines feel in my hands. Mine are obviously much abused, but still loved!
Oh, I agree. There is something so cool about old books. I love that they once belonged to someone else—like this one that someone held new in their hands almost 140 years ago! That just ups the coolness factor for me exponentially. :-)
Over the weekend, my 9yo asked if I had any old books, and I took him to the two shelves of them that we have so he could see. Which brought me back to this book.
Sometimes I think the more abused it is, the more loved. ;-)
What a touching story! Thank you for sharing it. Your English teacher sounded like an awesome guy and a great teacher.
My dad had a few really old books that I haven’t been able to get rid of. They are so old and worn out that he had at least one of them tied up with string to hold it together.
Yeah, I don’t think I could ever part with an old book. Newer books I have no problem donating to our library book sale if it’s something we haven’t touched in years and don’t plan on reading again. But old books? No way. They have this quality—it’s almost magical. There’s just something so incredibly special about them . . . even if you have to hold them together with string. ;-)