“Philosophy of Bookstores” By Lara C Forsythe

Sure, readers knows that the Patch is primarily a local journalism site. And the Theater & Arts Leadership Kouncil (TALK) blog will often follow suit, but TALK will also feature work like today’s, which fits more in the category of creative writing.  Today’s author is 16 year-old TALK Kontributer and one of TALK’s Youth Leadership Kouncil members, Lara Forsythe.  Here, I think Lara really helps dispel the myth that teens are just about hyper-abbreviated texts, Facebook and video games.  Also, read about and check out all the other amazing pieces that area teens are doing at TALK’s Website, http://www.talksouthland.org/ .  Enjoy.  

“Philosophy of Bookstores”         By Lara C Forsythe

I enter bookstores in reverence. I walk by stacks of freshly printed editions of my favorite novels and rejoice in the glory of age-old literature. It takes me a while to get settled. The first book I pick up is a small victory, as I pull over the front cover and graze the crisp, inked pages. I lift the book to my face, breathing in the subtle scents of new paper and old memories. It is my ultimate desire to stay here and mull over this book and forget time for a while. 

I could stay here forever, truly. I would dare myself to wander each corner and consider every inviting cover. I would start with poetry, reflecting on Whitman’s passion, Frost’s insight, and Cumming’s imagination. Then I’d move on to economics and philosophy, marveling at how little I understand and how much I enjoy the challenge. I’d browse history, geography, science. I’d skip romance altogether (please, let’s not pretend any of the books placed under that genre are worth reading). I’d spend quite a while in the food and wine section, and I might pick up one or two large picture books from the art section. I would finish by taking my time in the fiction section and savoring the array of rich titles. 

And yet, at the end of this awakening, I would be empty-handed as I left the bookstore. For no matter how intriguing or sentimental the book, I will always wind up putting it back in its perfect alignment, with some hesitancy. I might even come back to it later. But I won’t go home with it. A few weeks ago I was wandering Barnes and Noble and came across a wonderful new copy of Hemingway’s Moveable Feast. I walked around with that book for a whole half-hour before, defeatedly, putting it back on its shelf. Perhaps it is because I was raised to think twice about every purchase, but even so, I truly hate double-guessing myself when it comes to buying books. It makes me feel weak - inadequate, even. But I cannot ignore that pang of frugality when my conscience reminds me of my little, hard-earned savings. 

Or perhaps I rarely go through with it because these titles intimidate me. With so many to choose from, the likelihood of me making the wrong decision is strong. Should Hemingway be the next addition to my library, or should I consider adding The Spice and Herb Bible to my cookbook collection? Or maybe a new thesaurus? Which would mean the most to me? Which would best develop my character? Which would make me think at a deeper level, explore with more courage? Perhaps I over-think these things. Or perhaps these are valid questions, and ones that people should ask of their books more often. 

Nevertheless, we, as humans, must compromise. And so later that week I returned and bought a sturdy copy of Death of A Salesman. As for Hemingway, I’ll conquer him later.