There is something a bit demoralizing about really wanting to read an interesting-looking book but being totally unable to comprehend anything about it even as I flip the pages and admire the typography and book binding, the illustrations and the random letters I can pronounce individually. Such is my experience every single time I walk past a bookstore here. What was once a momentary burst of joy when I go walking through shopping malls had become a sad, sad reminder that I am in a foreign land and am just as good as, intellectually-speaking, an illiterate toddler or very drunk man.
My birthdays always end with me in a deep funk. I'm not upset at becoming one year older. I'm upset at how childish I still remain apart from my physical state. I am going to try cleaning up the living room to try to snap out of this negative paralysis before Petra wakes up from her nap, during which she is emitting the saddest cries and whimpers every now and then while still remaining asleep. What cruel incubus is bothering her? Maybe flipping through cloth books of animal pictures and frustratingly pondering what it all means?
doh. I totally lost my comment. I pressed the google button!
ReplyDeleteWhat did I say? Something about Happy BIrthday!!! And loving how books and libraries smell.
Oh, and that I will bring you a bag of books next time I am in Israel.
xoxooxo
Oh, my real point was, that it is really hard to find the small things that make you feel at home in a foreign country, and book stores, I feel comfortable in, I know how to act, but they are full of candy I can't taste, I can't read the back of, and can't impulsively buy.
DeleteShucks! Sad to lose your original comment. You are apparently the only reader of my blog who is brave/adventurous/foolhardy enough to experiment with the characters.
DeleteI love the way books and libraries smell too. You'd think they would market a perfume/cologne for bibliophiles already.
Re: bag of books - Thank you, thank you. You are too sweet. :D I've worked out a system of borrowed Kindle books... It's just that I still pass by the bookstore and get drawn to actual books, and it is exactly as you say. In my case, it's like walking up to a portal door and finding it locked without any keys on me.