Being a bibliophile — Part II

I finished A passion for books that I started reading more than a month ago, and, as I noted in my earlier post, it is a must-read. Here are some more things that I jotted down as I was reading the book.

… Jane, Jospeh and John, the loveliest book for children and grown-ups since R.L.S. gave us his Child’s Garden of Verses. — A Edward Newton

I am a great fan of Child’s Garden of Verses too–it is one of the poetry books that I enjoyed very much.

This passage of Aldus Manutius that William Dana Orcutt quotes

… Living that is a mere existence may be left to men who are content to be animals.

reminded me the poem of Bharathiar:

தேடிச் சோறு நிதந் தின்று
பல சின்னஞ் சிறு கதைகள் பேசி
நரை கூடி கிழப்பருவம் எய்தி
கொடுங்கூற்றுக்கிரையெனப் பின்மாயும்
பல வேடிக்கை மனிதரைப் போல் வீழ்வேன் என்று நினைத்தாயா?

காலா, என் காலருகே வாடா
உனை நான் சிரு புல் என மதிக்கின்றேன்
காலா, என் காலருகே வாடா
உனை நான் சற்றே மிதிக்கின்றேன்

(Looking for food everyday, eating it, and then chatting about many small matters, growing old with whitened hair, and then falling for the cruel Death; did you think that I will also fall like those laughable men? Oh! Lord of Death; come hither; I treat you as grass; Oh! Lord of Death; come hither; let me step on you a little!)

In the same article on Manutius, I also found a reference to House of Fugger in Augsburg.

Finally, before I finish this post, I have to quote Holbrook Jackson as to how Dr. Johnson, William Wordsworth, and Charles Darwin treated books:

When about to dust his books the Doctor drew on huge gloves, such as those once worn by hedgers and ditchers, and then, clutching his folios and octavos, he banged and buffeted them together until he was enveloped in a cloud of dust. This violent exercise over the good doctor restored the volumes, all battered, and bruised, to their places, where of course, the dust resettled itself as speedily as possible.

To introduce Wordsworth into one’s library, Southey tells De Quincey, is like letting a bear into a tulip garden: he had no mercy on his own or other people’s books, and once at tea-time De Quincey observed him take up a butter-knife to open the pages of a volume of Burke; he tore his way into the heart of the volume with his knife, that left its greasy honours behind it on every page.

Charles Darwin had no respect for books, but merely considered them as tools to be worked with; when they fell to pieces with rough use he held them together with metal clips; he would cut a heavy book in half to make it more convenient to hold, and he would tear out, for the sake of saving room, all the pages of pamphlets except the one that interested him.

Hunt down the book; it is well worth the effort. Happy reading!