A Love Letter for Books

In the fall of 1894, Southern Presbyterian theologian Robert Lewis Dabney, suffering the afflictions of advanced age, visited Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky to deliver a series of 18 lectures.

This should be a forgettable bit of knowledge for all but the most zealous scholars of Dabney’s life. However, I own a copy of Dabney’s book on preaching called Lectures on Sacred Rhetoric, a sturdy and aged edition published in 1881. The detailed inscription indicates that it was purchased for 94 cents from a J. E. Wylie by an R. M. Caldwell of “L.P.T.S” (i.e. Louisville Presbyterian Theological Seminary) on October 4, 1893.

If Mr. Caldwell was studying preaching at LPTS in the fall of 1893, it is likely that he was still studying in the fall of 1894. I like to think that this book was held in Mr. Caldwell’s hands sitting in the lecture hall hearing its author speak. The book links me concretely with the sounds and smells and language of another age.

This sentiment would be appreciated by Anne Fadiman, the author of a book about books Ex Libris. This collection of short essays (18 in all), a genre in which Fadiman excels details the author’s life-long love for books and the words they contain. It reflects with heart what only those who love books can understand.

With loving reverie she writes a love letter for books, buying books, storing books, building castles with books, passing on a love for books.

At one point she speaks of books as an integral part of marital intimacy. Commenting on the habit she and her husband share of reading books aloud to one another in bed, she notes, with mature wisdom:

“As [my husband] leans over to kiss me good night, I do not regret having graduated from the amorous sprints of our youths. Marriage is a long-distance course, and reading aloud is a kind of romantic Gatorade formulated to invigorate the occasionally exhausted racers.”

Spoken with the wisdom and passion of a true lover.

Sitting at Starbucks yesterday, I was struck by the t-shirt worn by a woman sitting nearby. The design was in the form of a to-do list which progressed as follows:

☑ Wake

☑ Read

☑ Sleep

☑ Repeat

I found out that the woman was a recently retired high school ‘media specialist’. A librarian. But as we talked, it became clear that books were not simply her job; they were her passion. I loaned her Ex Libris, and while she waited for her friend, she read.

My new librarian friend told me that a friend of hers believes that we like to trick ourselves into thinking that when we buy a book we are also buying the time to read it. Oh that it were so.

My passion therefore for books is limited greatly by the time available to me. But to participate through these essays in this author’s experience of books is to renew and revisit the experiences we ourselves have had with books.