But when it comes to books, I can shop. Till the cows come home. I love books, not just the content, but the physical feel of them, the pages, the fonts, the smell of new paper and whether it is a hard copy with a dust jacket or a paperback. Sometimes, like I found yesterday, a book with uneven edges, like paper from an expensive paper shop bound together to give you that rough hewn feel. Hard to turn the pages, but hey, anything for that rustic feel.
I found the one book store that everyone I talk to here seems really keen to tell me about - Kepler's at Menlo Park apparently is an institution. Much like City Lights in San Francisco, it is an icon, a stalwart in a community that loves books. I found it yesterday. (They had Alexander McCall Smith come speak earlier in October, so yes I love this bookstore already!).
It was great. It was beautiful. It was not glitzy or technical, but slightly dusty and old fashioned. They had handwritten recommendation notes and pictures of the people who worked there and reviewed their books They had a staff recommendation section. Beautiful plain shelves just filled with books of every kind. History, psychology, fiction, travel, LGBT, politics, children's picture books, teen books. I feel as if I have been round the world in a space of a short walk. I browsed, I read the titles. The titles made me laugh, made me cry, made me feel all the emotions of frustration, anger, love, joy and mischief in the space of a short walk. It made me realise how grave our situation is, how we could do something to change the course of history, or divert a man made disaster. A simple store filled with books made me feel all of this.
It was funny as before walking in, I wondered if it would be like a bookshop in London. You don't see many bookstores nowadays. Everyone is going digital. I don't oppose digital but I do still like books. The physical entity is ironically, mystical. I don't like physical things very much, but books? I love them. There is a misconception that the Americans aren't as intellectual as the British, and I hesitated for a moment, and wondered if I would find anything like London's bookstores (or intellect let's face it, a bookstore is euphemism for that). Or the type of books that I would find. It is an odd assumption or presumption. I who am Singapore born and brought up, having hang ups about the American intellect, coming via London. I who am in no fit state to judge, London only being adopted and not a heritage I can claim.
But I didn't want to be disappointed. I wanted to find somewhere in this strange new city that I could call my own. Not H's, not D's. Mine. Something I could escape to even for an hour. (H's is Best Buy by the way, a store selling, you got it, gadgets!)
But then all my misgivings and misconceptions gave way even before I walked in. The posters told of true faith to books and the love for the literary. The books were marvellous but different too. A different perspective, a different life. I found, like the art exhibits and the science and technology galleries here, they are different. They are a different perspective to how things are done here. Much more hands on, much more direct, much more "get up and go". I loved how everything was fun and crazy and just beautiful. Different is good, different means I get yet another perspective to things. I embrace different. Different makes me a better person.
I learnt that books are books, wherever you go. Misconceptions about intellect will be dissipated once you enter a book store, a library, a place that holds and revers books, intellect, the mind. This is my common ground, with people who loves books and loves the literary word. This is my common ground, ties that bind those that love thought.
We are one and the same, you and I. We are no different. The food we eat, and the words we speak might differ, but we are one and the same, you and I.
We are no different.
Much love,
from (still) sunny California xoxo
PS: I highly recommend Lily and the Octopus, especially those that loves dogs. Oh so heartwarming ... but I warn you, sad too. Bring your hanky!
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