By Michael Suarez and Henry Woudhuysen
And Yet The Books
And yet the books will be there on the shelves, separate beings,
That appeared once, still wet
As shining chestnuts under a tree in autumn,
And, touched, coddled, began to live
In spite of fires on the horizon, castles blown up,
Tribes on the march, planets in motion.
“We are,” they said, even as their pages
Were being torn out, or a buzzing flame
Licked away their letters. So much more durable
Than we are, whose frail warmth
Cools down with memory, disperses, perishes.
I imagine the earth when I am no more:
Nothing happens, no loss, it’s still a strange pageant,
Women’s dresses, dewy lilacs, a song in the valley.
Yet the books will be there on the shelves, well born,
Derived from people, but also from radiance, heights.
‘And yet the books’ by Polish writer Czeslaw Milosz (1986) brilliantly captures the relationship between the book as a universal, world-wide object, a thing that exists by the millions and yet is so individual, and the single, solitary writer or reader. How can such a ubiquitous, material phenomenon be at the same time so personal and so transcendent?
Histories of the book have often concentrated on one aspect. Most have been accounts, for example, of medieval manuscripts or of printing in the West or have taken the form of national histories of the book in, say, France, the US, India, or China. More detailed studies look at one or two means of production and publication, at a particular period, or a local phenomenon. However valuable these studies are (and astonishing work has been done on books during the last century), they deny the universality of books, the very feature that makes them such important and internationally significant objects. How could a history of books be taken seriously without thinking about the recent enormous growth in South American publishing, or the way in which book production in India has developed? To say nothing about the book in China and Japan; that would be to miss some of the most striking and visually attractive illustrated books and bindings of the last few centuries that have been enormously influential throughout the world.
Drilled books, Mar. 27, 1913. Source: NYPL.
And not just the book itself as a material object – Mislosz’s “shining chestnuts” – but as an immaterial object. We should seek to cover the development of writing, the oral teachings of the world’s great religious and philosophical leaders, the metaphysical or platonic identity of texts, and the electronic book. We should explore the history
I couldn't let the first day of Fall go by without a mention.
Fall is my favorite season! (And I wonder why Fall has a second name ~ Autumn ~ while all the other poor seasons only get ONE.)
I'd meant to have some new Fall-ish childrens book art to show, but I've been so consumed with this new knitting venture that its taken up all my time lately. Maybe I'll have pictures to show later in the week. I'll try.
There were some absolutely gorgeous chestnuts at the store today. Did I buy them? No. Why? I knew I wouldn't eat them because I don't particularly like them. I didn't know if I really felt like drawing them. Even if I decided to, would I just draw one? A whole handful? And because I couldn't decide, I just stood there fondling this one poor chestnut for a while, admiring its color, then put it back and didn't get any.
And when I went to pay for my goods and swiped my card, it wouldn't go through. The checker said it had been doing that all day. Because of the wind, the phone lines in the area were acting up, and no credit card transactions could be done. So I had to fish out cash to pay with, and luckily I had just enough (by a dollar!). It was funny that using plain old fashioned actual MONEY felt strange. The times we live in, huh?
The photo above is of my newest scarf in my shop. It reminds me of crunchy granola kind of. Its all wool and pretty yummy.
Happy Fall (or Autumn if you prefer)!
Ah, the scarf does indeed look yummy! (your new shop looks great btw).
The scarf looks like toasted something delicious.
Oh, here comes a bad pun...
I could just 'scarf' it down.
*ouch*
But really, doesn't it look fatteneing?