What is left behind
I had occasion to peruse the shelves of McKay Used Books a few weeks ago. I've always liked used bookstores; it's like a treasure hunt, and you don't know what you'll walk out with, or even if you'll find anything. And the titles are old, out of print and obscure, not the kind you'll have heard of or even found on a Google search. There's horror novels that thought Bela Lugosi was the epitome of thae vampiric archetype, fangs and evening dress instead of teen angst and sparkles. There's books that were topical for their time, where Satan's minions were sacrificing virgins and infiltrating the White House. Good times. Makes the whole exercise a little more exciting, if you can believe me. It's a little bit of history in your hand.
I was leafing through a First Edition D&D Fiend Folio, the old school creature descriptions are more interesting than the 4th edition material to me. There was written on the blank page in front, the one that usually goes between the outer cover and the inner title page, a two-paragraph birthday message talking about the campaign the gift receiver was running. Dated almost thirty yeas ago.
I wonder, how'd that book end up on the shelf? Why would the owner relinquish a gift so personalized? Was it as simple as getting tired of the game, or trading for a newer edition? Or was it more personal, the friends falling out and the book owner ridding himself of every reminder of the other person. Or the owner had died, and his relatives disposing of his belongings through McKay's. Y'see, that's the sort of thing that comes to mind when I see the personalized touch. It stops being just a book, or flask, or watch, and becomes a touchstone in a relationship. Things like that, I can't imagine giving up easily or at all. It's probably why I keep all my birthday and Christmas cards.
It's a moment in their history, but it's lost the specialness somehow. Reading it feels like, I don't know, an intrusion, but nobody cares to prevent it. It's sad. It's intriguing. It's a page out of another life, and the rest of the story is closed.
I was leafing through a First Edition D&D Fiend Folio, the old school creature descriptions are more interesting than the 4th edition material to me. There was written on the blank page in front, the one that usually goes between the outer cover and the inner title page, a two-paragraph birthday message talking about the campaign the gift receiver was running. Dated almost thirty yeas ago.
I wonder, how'd that book end up on the shelf? Why would the owner relinquish a gift so personalized? Was it as simple as getting tired of the game, or trading for a newer edition? Or was it more personal, the friends falling out and the book owner ridding himself of every reminder of the other person. Or the owner had died, and his relatives disposing of his belongings through McKay's. Y'see, that's the sort of thing that comes to mind when I see the personalized touch. It stops being just a book, or flask, or watch, and becomes a touchstone in a relationship. Things like that, I can't imagine giving up easily or at all. It's probably why I keep all my birthday and Christmas cards.
It's a moment in their history, but it's lost the specialness somehow. Reading it feels like, I don't know, an intrusion, but nobody cares to prevent it. It's sad. It's intriguing. It's a page out of another life, and the rest of the story is closed.