An alumnus of Gettysburg College in PA is helping his college
library establish a formidable collection on all things China. Last week the head librarian joined him here
in Chicago where they visited all the book dealers they expected might have books to
enhance this new intellectual passion.
They got to my store just before closing. “I am so
glad we caught you while you are still here. I was so afraid we would miss you.” (It would have been rude of me to say, “Why
didn’t you phone? I would have waited.”)
They took all the books relating to China off the shelf where I
cleverly keep them together, and played the computer to see whether these
titles were already in the library. They
weren’t!
Getting into it, I suggested the young man hit the art
section while I checked the childrens books.
The librarian drifted around looking at the fiction for Chinese
authors. This was fun. As the books stacked up, I had another
thought and pulled the lightweight ladder to the medical books way up
high. Yes, one more: The Opium Trade as
Carried on in India and China, published
in 1853. Why was that shelved in
Medical? Why not?
The best part was putting them in bags to be carried away
that night. No, the best part was the
librarian signing her name to the check at that moment.
The next morning a Chinese man and his wife walked into the
shop.
I couldn’t understand his question because I was so dismayed
that I had not one book to show them. He
repeated what I finally understood to be, Medical? Oh, no, not opium, my mind gasped. I pointed to the top shelves, and he asked
another question. One word, but again
incomprehensible. I looked hopefully at his wife. Ah, psychiatry.
Here, across the room at eye level is psychiatry. Only at that moment did I realize those books
should, indeed, have been in the medical category. Will I re-shelve them? No. I
find whenever I move something (anything at all) to a more logical place, I
only remember where it used to be.
“Ah!” he said, and the wife left for a moment to return with
three other members of the family. While
the man examined the books, the wife sat in a chair, and the others roamed and
looked.
He brought two books to the desk, and in perfect English,
pronounced the first words we are all taught before visiting a foreign country,
“How much?”
I said, “$125 for
this” and opened the second one, “$8 for this.”
What? “Eight dollars? Eight dollars?” I heard myself
questioning. I flipped the pages and saw
the underlining. I pointed at it
explaining, "That’s why $8." He nodded,
took out his credit card, indicating both books.
While I was bagging the books, I said to the woman while
nodding at the young girl, “Beautiful girl.”
She beamed. “Granddaughter.” And she looked at the young man, proudly, “Son.”
We bid each other Goodbye, smiling.
I enjoyed the juxtaposition of the China connection. While we do get customers of
all nationalities, including several Americans of Chinese heritage among them,
these two back-to-back visits were so intensely Chinese that it was again a
playful coincidence that makes life entertaining.
--- Florence
Dear Florence,
Don't ever ever EVER stop writing in this journal.
Today's China entry is priceless ... a confirmation that there is joy to be had from human connection. That you take the time to write about it, is a double joy.
Last year at the U of M, I went to a series of six lectures about ... ha ha ... as you say ... "All Things China".
The art was particularly fascinating.
When I get mad at the toothpaste, and pet food, and China's 'who-the-hell-cares' air pollution ... I try to think about the careful brushstrokes and poetry.
Now you are PART of the librarian's project. How COOL is THAT.
Love,
Ellen :-)
Posted by: Ellen | October 27, 2009 at 08:56 AM
Totally, totally COOL!
Posted by: Florence Shay | October 27, 2009 at 09:24 AM