Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The other day I bought a hardcover book from an independent bookseller.
To do that involved driving across town, parking and walking. Finding the book, paying and chatting with the bookseller who used to live in my neighborhood. Not only did we exchange updates on the small wonderful produce shop owned by a local family but she clued me in on some good reads.
Real cost = Priceless in that I hadn't seen that bookseller in ages, I supported her store, and I got out of the house.
Now I could have bought this book on line too via google books that the store had on their website but when I get that itch that I want the book right now and to feel the paper between my hands nothing for it but to jump in the vehicle/bus/tram and walk.
There are only a few authors - apart from ALL my fellow cohorts in crime here - whose book I straight out buy in hardcover. But that said it just feels natural. Like in France.
France has hypermarche's - like Costco's - but with more class ie fois gras in bulk and cooler, chic apparel and people - some - download books.
There's a tradition of buying local and yet, in Paris so many Monoprix's pop up that quartiers lose their cheesemonger and there's only about six butchers with horsemeat left in Paris...but it brings me to my
continuing summer in the fog film watching and somehow winding this thread to make sense. I watched 'Le Combat sur l'Ile' from 1962 with Jean-Louis Trintignant the A Man A Woman guy and the dew drop young Romy Schnieder.
Call it political thriller veering into drama and romantic suspense - a threesome illustrating what the Director called the allegory for the parts of France in 1962 - the OAS Right wing occupy Algeria, the liberal intello's against, and Romy the capricious whimsy arty earth mother who seduces all.
Part of the story takes place in Paris and the other in Normandy in the mill where a printmaker lives and writes and prints. Idyllic at first in the old timbered mill, drinking Calvados and yes, damp but all throughout the film the printer/writer who ends up writing a play for Romy, an actress and returns to Paris to perform it gave this organic essence. Scenes took place around the printing press, locals were employed shared ideas about poetry. Yet the film's pace and themes don't feel dated
Fast forwarding this to today - one could picture the occupy movement, the mill would be an internet publishing company and the locals would still gather and be employed, Romy would be blogging about her life and return to the theatre...
Books like all things can feel a bit different these days. But like a film is a film a book is a book. Cara - Tuesday
at 12:26 PM