A G-RATED HORROR STORY
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Also, if you'll believe it, out of twitter, tumblr, livejournal, wordpress, and facebook - I genuinely update livejournal the most. I guess I'm more of a one-to-one sort of person, so most of my thoughts/opinions/comments come out in e-mails and conversations. Actually, I have laughed so hard that my jaw hurt. Or maybe talked so much. Probably both. I should fix that sense of humor.
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Among the many things that money cannot buy, it cannot buy multilingual English dictionaries on dead languages printed in 2007. Yes, 2007.
I have checked Amazon where one lone vendor is selling the first volume (A-M) for £180.00. Granted, it's not very expensive compared to the £250.00 I had to dish out on the still-incomplete encyclopedia (where, to quote my professor, "four generations of German historians have bravely marched on, trying to complete this monumental endeavor. The current generation is about a quarter done.") but... I kind of wanted to buy a new desk lamp. And a new desk, really. But I guess the current flashlight contraption thingamajig is okay too.
Wait, I missed my own point. The point is: it's 2012, on the internet, and I cannot find a single person willing to sell an English dictionary printed in 2007.
Thankfully, both volumes are available in my university library, and another set is available in one of the sister universities. But neither of them are available for loan -- in fact, they're only allowed to be kept in very specific reading rooms. I have been haunting said reading rooms for the better part of two weeks. Apparently this is just the start. Oh well, at least it gives me an excuse to peruse through second-hand bookstores.... hoping that the handful of people who would actually buy that set of dictionaries would also be in dire enough financial straits to sell them.
My main issue though, is that because they were originally published in 2007 (so it's still the first edition) and thus, it's highly likely (unlike the books published pre-WWII) for the original owner to still be, you know, alive, and therefore, highly the set of dictionaries are unlikely to turn up at a used bookstore.
Ah, that's the way of the world, I guess.
Seriously though... at the seventh hour of just sitting in the (admittedly spacious and comfortable) reading room, I contemplate cutting off the cover and peeling off the three security barcodes.
It will be a relatively easy job. Oh wait, but there's a nameplate on the back that's far too heavy to just be decoration. I guess that means the back cover needs to go too. It's a pity that the book is clearly bound together with cross-stitch -- though the fact that it's softcover works in my favor. The sound of paper tearing is far softer than that of cardboard or leather. Plus, no one ever comes to this section of the library; my fellow classmates are perfectly fluent in German.
I should have learned German instead of French, in retrospect. But the craftknife is so easy to obtain, its grip resting in the palm of my hand. Just a couple cuts, nothing deep or serious. I just need to detach the book from its spine. There's no trashcan in this reading room though. A quick glance to the left; the librarians have chosen to put a present-day atlas section in the restricted reading room. Finally, a subject less touched than mine.
It'll be easy, it'll be quick.
But wait, no, if I mean to simply have the book for my own uses, why not take its unbound contents out of the reading room? I have a backpack large enough to conceal it... it would just be a couple turns into the copyroom. Between my student card and the initial deposit, I'm certain I would be able to copy the whole two volumes. Ah, but no, I would probably be caught -- if not by security guards then by some other student. They'd ask questions. Questions I wouldn't be able to answer.
No, no, I'll have to sneak the book out of the library and use my own copy machine. But wait, if I take it home, then why not just scan it in? Yes, I have a very quick scanner, one that can be loaded with up to 100 pages. Sure, the dictionary would need to be taken apart page by page, but the scans would be so much better then. I could convert it to a .pdf file. And then I could rebind the book with some glue, thread, and an iron of course. It would be the right thing to do, I suppose, to shuffle it back into the library. I guess I could even try to reattach the cover. Yes, it wouldn't be so hard. Just slip it back in, and no one will know the difference. I'll take my leave, with all the information of the book intact. Perhaps the librarian will ask of my absence. Hopefully not; he seems to be a busy man.
Ah, but if I've taken the trouble of taking it all the way home -- and if none of my classmates will need it -- then why bother take it back? Yes, it would be much easier, really. No need to scan or copy or convert files... whenever I need to look up a word, I would just flip to the appropriate page, purposely ignoring the lack of cover. Plus, after theoretically debinding the thousand-something pages, it's entirely possible -- if not guaranteed -- for someone to notice a couple pages out of order. They would ask the librarian and the librarian would ask me. Questions I wouldn't be able to answer. The image of an unwanted book is the worst; I sincerely doubt that I would be able to return it to its original condition.
I'll steal it. It's better than killing it.
In fact, now that I think about it, it's likely that this class will be discontinued the next year. Which means that I could be the last person in this school to have use of this book. 2007 is far too young to have outlived its purpose. There's nothing sadder than an unnecessary book.
Yes, it makes sense. I'll just steal it.
-
("To Plot the Murder of a Book")
---
Also, if you'll believe it, out of twitter, tumblr, livejournal, wordpress, and facebook - I genuinely update livejournal the most. I guess I'm more of a one-to-one sort of person, so most of my thoughts/opinions/comments come out in e-mails and conversations. Actually, I have laughed so hard that my jaw hurt. Or maybe talked so much. Probably both. I should fix that sense of humor.
-
Among the many things that money cannot buy, it cannot buy multilingual English dictionaries on dead languages printed in 2007. Yes, 2007.
I have checked Amazon where one lone vendor is selling the first volume (A-M) for £180.00. Granted, it's not very expensive compared to the £250.00 I had to dish out on the still-incomplete encyclopedia (where, to quote my professor, "four generations of German historians have bravely marched on, trying to complete this monumental endeavor. The current generation is about a quarter done.") but... I kind of wanted to buy a new desk lamp. And a new desk, really. But I guess the current flashlight contraption thingamajig is okay too.
Wait, I missed my own point. The point is: it's 2012, on the internet, and I cannot find a single person willing to sell an English dictionary printed in 2007.
Thankfully, both volumes are available in my university library, and another set is available in one of the sister universities. But neither of them are available for loan -- in fact, they're only allowed to be kept in very specific reading rooms. I have been haunting said reading rooms for the better part of two weeks. Apparently this is just the start. Oh well, at least it gives me an excuse to peruse through second-hand bookstores.... hoping that the handful of people who would actually buy that set of dictionaries would also be in dire enough financial straits to sell them.
My main issue though, is that because they were originally published in 2007 (so it's still the first edition) and thus, it's highly likely (unlike the books published pre-WWII) for the original owner to still be, you know, alive, and therefore, highly the set of dictionaries are unlikely to turn up at a used bookstore.
Ah, that's the way of the world, I guess.
Seriously though... at the seventh hour of just sitting in the (admittedly spacious and comfortable) reading room, I contemplate cutting off the cover and peeling off the three security barcodes.
It will be a relatively easy job. Oh wait, but there's a nameplate on the back that's far too heavy to just be decoration. I guess that means the back cover needs to go too. It's a pity that the book is clearly bound together with cross-stitch -- though the fact that it's softcover works in my favor. The sound of paper tearing is far softer than that of cardboard or leather. Plus, no one ever comes to this section of the library; my fellow classmates are perfectly fluent in German.
I should have learned German instead of French, in retrospect. But the craftknife is so easy to obtain, its grip resting in the palm of my hand. Just a couple cuts, nothing deep or serious. I just need to detach the book from its spine. There's no trashcan in this reading room though. A quick glance to the left; the librarians have chosen to put a present-day atlas section in the restricted reading room. Finally, a subject less touched than mine.
It'll be easy, it'll be quick.
But wait, no, if I mean to simply have the book for my own uses, why not take its unbound contents out of the reading room? I have a backpack large enough to conceal it... it would just be a couple turns into the copyroom. Between my student card and the initial deposit, I'm certain I would be able to copy the whole two volumes. Ah, but no, I would probably be caught -- if not by security guards then by some other student. They'd ask questions. Questions I wouldn't be able to answer.
No, no, I'll have to sneak the book out of the library and use my own copy machine. But wait, if I take it home, then why not just scan it in? Yes, I have a very quick scanner, one that can be loaded with up to 100 pages. Sure, the dictionary would need to be taken apart page by page, but the scans would be so much better then. I could convert it to a .pdf file. And then I could rebind the book with some glue, thread, and an iron of course. It would be the right thing to do, I suppose, to shuffle it back into the library. I guess I could even try to reattach the cover. Yes, it wouldn't be so hard. Just slip it back in, and no one will know the difference. I'll take my leave, with all the information of the book intact. Perhaps the librarian will ask of my absence. Hopefully not; he seems to be a busy man.
Ah, but if I've taken the trouble of taking it all the way home -- and if none of my classmates will need it -- then why bother take it back? Yes, it would be much easier, really. No need to scan or copy or convert files... whenever I need to look up a word, I would just flip to the appropriate page, purposely ignoring the lack of cover. Plus, after theoretically debinding the thousand-something pages, it's entirely possible -- if not guaranteed -- for someone to notice a couple pages out of order. They would ask the librarian and the librarian would ask me. Questions I wouldn't be able to answer. The image of an unwanted book is the worst; I sincerely doubt that I would be able to return it to its original condition.
I'll steal it. It's better than killing it.
In fact, now that I think about it, it's likely that this class will be discontinued the next year. Which means that I could be the last person in this school to have use of this book. 2007 is far too young to have outlived its purpose. There's nothing sadder than an unnecessary book.
Yes, it makes sense. I'll just steal it.
-
("To Plot the Murder of a Book")
---