Turning Weary Wednesdays into Wise Wednesdays

We know that Wednesday is not everyone’s favorite day of the week. It is neither the beginning of the week, nor the end, and somehow always seems so far from the weekend! We would like to change your opinion for a soft second, however, to respect a civil rights world leader, lawyer, ethicist and philosopher on this particular Wednesday – his birthday – Mahatma Gandhi. In his honor we’d like to share some of his most well-known, well-loved and cherished quotes that give us pause in troubling times.

Rare studio photograph of Mahatma Gandhi taken in London England UK at the request of Lord Irwin 1931

Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony.

A man is but a product of his thoughts. What he thinks he becomes.

Live as if you were to die tomorrow. Learn as if you were to live forever.

Freedom is not worth having if it does not include the freedom to make mistakes.

If I have the belief that I can do it, I shall surely acquire the capacity to do it even if I may not have it at the beginning.

An eye for an eye will make the whole world blind.

The future depends on what you do today.

Earth provides enough to satisfy every man’s needs, but not every man’s greed.

I object to violence because when it appears to do good, the good is only temporary; the evil it does is permanent.

You must not lose faith in humanity. Humanity is like an ocean; if a few drops of the ocean are dirty, the ocean does not become dirty.

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After being born in India, Gandhi spent much of his life in South Africa, practicing law and raising his family. Upon his return to India at the age of 45, Gandhi began immediately to “stir the pot”, as it were. The ethicist believed in non-violent revolt, was an anti-colonialist (India was then still under Britain’s rule), and a religious pluralist. At the age of 51 he was elected leader of the Indian National Congress, where he led nationwide campaigns to ease poverty, expand women’s rights, end India’s practice of “untouchability”, and praise self-rule (end colonialism). Starting at this time he began living life in extreme modesty – eating simple vegetarian meals, fasting for health, political and meditative purposes, and wearing a traditional Indian dhoti as a mark of respect to the lower classes. He spent his life helping others, helping himself, and helping his country. He was assassinated at the age of 78 for being “too accommodating” in his dealings with other nations (mainly Pakistan, at that time).

His birthday, October 2nd, is celebrated in India as a national holiday – the International Day of Nonviolence. Gandhi’s beliefs and opinions are ones that transcend time, if you’ll forgive our grand sentiments. Especially today, when violence sometimes seems to be one of our only constants, we could all take a page out of Gandhi’s book. Sleep, eat healthy, forgive, remain strong, listen, learn, and – most of all – love.

❤

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“Sometimes the Devil is a Gentleman” – The Life of Percy Shelley

“I curse thee! let a sufferer’s curse…

Clasp thee, his torturer, like remorse;’
Till thine Infinity shall be
A robe of envenomed agony;
And thine Omnipotence a crown of pain,
To cling like burning gold round thy dissolving brain.”
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Ahh, if only we all possessed the ability to curse our enemies in such a romantic tongue. Alas, we do not and we must leave that beautiful power to those who truly deserve it. On this day, we honor poet Percy Shelley – one of the most famed English Romantic poets and author of Prometheus Unbound - from which the above section was unabashedly taken.

Percy Shelley was born on the 4th of August, 1792 in a small village in West Sussex. He was the oldest of 7 children, and seemed to always run a bit wild! He left home to be educated formally at the age of 10, and at 12 enrolled in Eton. Unfortunately Shelley was heavily bullied at Eton College, and while such behavior is never requested it certainly seemed to help build Shelley’s inner imagination up and he began writing at a young age. At 18 he began his studies at University College, Oxford. Shelley excelled academically at the start, but after just a few months was expelled after writing a pamphlet promoting atheism with another student and refusing to confirm or deny his authorship in it (which in and of itself is kind of a confirmation, no?). Shelley’s life was nothing but static. He experienced bouts of grave financial difficulty (his parents being unamused, to say the least, of Shelley’s difficult nature), and had what were considered extremely radical notions for the times. He believed in free love and vegetarianism. For the turn of the 19th century those were novel ideas, to say the least!

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Shelley wrote to support himself after running away at 19 with a 16 year old girl that his parents had expressly forbidden him to see. The couple were happy for only a short period of time, however, as Shelley was quickly bored by Harriet and his conceptions of free love kept him from the marriage bed. Shelley was eventually able to boast a mentorship from one of his political and philosophical idols – William Godwin – where Shelley discovered both his own political radical ideology and Godwin’s daughter, Mary. Mary Godwin was the daughter of a powerful political and intellectual duo, being begot of Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft. Mary turned Shelley’s world upside down and the two fell deeply in love, risking family disinheritance to be together. The two, along with Mary’s sister Jane, fled their homes and lived as vagabonds, traveling around England and Europe (often by foot) for over three years. By the time they returned, Shelley’s wife Harriet had had enough and had filed for divorce.

shelley4In the summer of 1816, Shelley befriended one of his first powerful and influential authors – Lord Byron. Percy and Mary spent a season with Byron in Switzerland – the summer ended up being one of the most important of Shelley’s life. Byron helped inspire the young radical, and Shelley wrote his romantic poem Hymn to Intellectual Beauty after an afternoon with Byron. It was during this summer, funnily enough, that Byron’s guests and friends were inspired to have a horror write-off. This writing competition of sorts was the inspiration behind Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Upon their return to England at the end of the year, it was discovered that Shelley’s wife, Harriet, had committed suicide. As unfortunate as the event was, it incited Shelley and Mary to finally marry. The two settled in a small hamlet in Buckinghamshire, where they befriended poets John Keats and Leigh Hunt – both of which would prove to be invaluable friends to Shelley in his last years. It was in these years that Shelley wrote and published a bulk of his most well-known works, including The Revolt of Islam and Prometheus Unbound, the latter of which is widely considered to be his most beloved epic work.

Sadly, Shelley would not live to see his work widely recognized, as he died when his boat capsized in a storm just shy of his 30th birthday. As was the custom, Shelley was buried in the sand on the beach where he washed up for one month before being dug up and burned on a funeral pyre. It is said that his heart refused to burn – and that his friend Leigh Hunt retrieved it from the ashes and gifted it to Mary Shelley – who kept it in a writing case wrapped in silk for the rest of her days. Oh, what a terrifying thought!

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Shelley’s young works showed all the aspects of the talented writer that he was, if only he had been able to live longer and reach his full potential. But as Shelley once said, we must “fear not for the future, weep not for the past.” Well said.

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We’re Still Salty, Casey

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CASEY AT THE BAT
BY: Ernest Lawrence Thayer

A Ballad of the Republic, Sung in the Year 1888

The outlook wasn’t brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two with but one inning more to play.
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A sickly silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought if only Casey could but get a whack at that—
We’d put up even money now with Casey at the bat.

But Flynn preceded Casey, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a lulu and the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat,
For there seemed but little chance of Casey’s getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from 5,000 throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It knocked upon the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Casey, mighty Casey, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Casey’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Casey’s bearing and a smile on Casey’s face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt ’twas Casey at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance gleamed in Casey’s eye, a sneer curled Casey’s lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Casey stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped—
“That ain’t my style,” said Casey. “Strike one,” the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore.
“Kill him! Kill the umpire!” shouted some one on the stand;
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Casey raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Casey’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the spheroid flew;
But Casey still ignored it, and the umpire said, “Strike two.”

“Fraud!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered fraud;
But one scornful look from Casey and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Casey wouldn’t let that ball go by again.

The sneer is gone from Casey’s lip, his teeth are clinched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Casey’s blow.

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright;
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout;
But there is no joy in Mudville—mighty Casey has struck out.

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Do you even truly consider yourself American if you don’t know at least one stanza of this poem by heart? Unlike the mighty and fearless leader of Tavistock Books (and the San Francisco Giants’ #1 Fan) Vic Zoschak, I know relatively zilch about baseball. I know there are two teams, I know there are some innings, and I know the hot dogs are as delicious as they are terrible for you. So yeah, I basically know nothing about baseball. But Casey? Oh, I know all about that self-confident dud.

casey3Ernest Thayer was a Harvard educated author, who began working at the age of 24 as a humor columnist for The San Francisco Examiner. On June 3rd, 1888, the elusive author “Phin” published a poem that would become a backbone of both American poetry and baseball. Thayer did not receive credit for the poem for several months (as he was not a boastful man), and when he finally did he was surprisingly close-lipped about it all. He never revealed whether he based the game or the character of Casey on a real player, though many have put forth possibilities.

Actor William DeWolf Hopper was the first to read the poem aloud onstage – on August 14th, 1888 (Thayer’s birthday, as a matter of fact) at the Wallack Theatre in New York City. Present were the Chicago and New York baseball teams – the White Stockings and the Giants. Many of Hopper’s recitations of the poem can be heard today, as he became the official orator of the poem – and by the end of his life had recited it over 10,000 times. Thayer read it aloud just once, at a Harvard class reunion in 1895, which finally settled any doubts Americans had on the wordsmith and creator of the poem. Despite the fact that many knew of Thayer’s authorship, his lack of comment and humble nature had caused many to doubt it throughout the years!

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Click here to listen to DeWolf Hopper reciting Casey at the Bat

Thayer lived in California for the bulk of his life working at the San Francisco Examiner, eventually moving in 1912 to Santa Barbara where he lived until he passed away at the age of 77.

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Here is one of our many baseball offerings (we mentioned that Vic was a GIANT baseball fan, right? (See what I did there? That man loves the Giants.) Printed just two years prior to Thayer’s poem publication, this 125 page wrappered booklet claims to be the “Complete Hand Book of the National Game of Baseball.” Find out everything Thayer knew about the game here!

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The Disappearance of Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

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“People where you live, the little prince said, grow five thousand roses in one garden… Yet they don’t find what they’re looking for… And yet what they’re looking for could be found in a single rose.”

prince1So said the Little Prince – an absolutely beloved character in the canon of Western Literature. Antoine de Saint-Exupéry wrote this story, a children’s story on the outside and a very adult study of human nature and morality on the inside. Saint-Exupéry, a French national, had fled Europe at the onset of World War II and wrote much of his tale during his 27 week stay in North America and Canada. Now normally we would do a blog on Saint-Exupéry’s life story and how he came to write such a popular and precious children’s tale, but today we are speaking of a specific day in this author’s life… the day he disappeared from the skies.

Saint-Exupéry was not only a writer, but an aviation enthusiast and a pilot. He began his career as a basic rank soldier in the French army when he was a mere 21 years old, but soon after accepting private flying lessons he was offered a place in the French Air Force. After taking a brief break from flying for an office job in the mid 1920s, Saint-Exupéry was back at it by 1926. Over the next many years, Saint-Exupéry worked as a pilot for Aéropostale, working as a mail courier, navigation specialist, and as the negotiating correspondent for downed fliers taken hostage by native Saharan tribes in the Spanish zone of South Morocco. In 1929 he was transferred to Argentina, where he spent his time surveying new piloting routes and also ran search missions for downed fliers… ironic, as eventually Saint-Exupéry would not only become a downed flier himself, but flying would ultimately lead to his disappearance.

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By 1929 Saint-Exupéry had already been trying his hand at writing, having published a novella in a literary magazine in 1926, and his first book in 1929. His 1931 publication of Vol de nuit (or Night Flight) was the work that established him as a writer, however. An important event in Saint-Exupéry’s life happened during this time, as a matter of fact, and it would prove to be a great inspiration in his future authorship of The Little Prince. On December 30th, 1935, Saint-Exupéry and his mechanic/navigator crashed a small plane in the Libyan desert. They had very little sustenance with them – some grapes, two oranges, a madeleine cookie, a pint of coffee and a pint of white-wine (how very French!) was all they carried with them. Miraculous was the word of the day, however, as the two had somehow survived the crash and were once again able to survive on these meager rations for three full days (hallucinating, but still alive). Finally on the fourth day a local Bedouin on a camel happened to come across the pair and rehydrated them – saving their lives. This airplane crash – and brush with death – would be revisited in The Little Prince almost a decade later. 

prince3Unfortunately, less than that decade later Saint-Exupéry would be fleeing his homeland and arriving in New York City, winning writing prizes and rubbing shoulders with the literary crowd in New York, all the while simultaneously trying to convince the US government (through its higher-ups) to join in on the fight against fascism. Saint-Exupéry did not stay away from Europe for long through, as he returned to his homeland in 1943 (right around the publication of The Little Prince) to help with the war effort. On a fateful day in 1944 – July 31st, 1944, to be exact – Saint-Exupéry left on a reconnaissance mission from the island of Corsica. His plane, a Lockheed Lightning P-38, and Saint-Exupéry himself were never seen again. Many theories arose, that he had lost control of the plane, that he had committed suicide (French president Charles de Gaulle had implied publicly that Saint-Exupéry supported the German war effort and this caused the author to begin to drink more heavily than regularly and gave him bouts of depression), or that he had been shot down near Marseille and his plane lost at sea. Until 1998, no clues had arisen of his whereabouts and he had become the Amelia Earhart of the literary scene. In 1998 fishermen off of the coast of Marseille dragged up a silver bracelet with Saint-Exupéry’s name, publisher’s name and New York address on it – an ID bracelet. Shortly thereafter, divers picked up a wrecked plane, believed to be Saint-Exupéry’s, and even more theories arose. A German fighter pilot emerged who claimed to have felt shame for decades that he had been the one to shoot down one of his literary idols (after all, Saint-Exupéry wrote often of pilots and aviation before publishing The Little Prince). Perhaps we will never know the truth. But what we do know is infinitely more important… and was taught to us by Saint-Exupéry himself.

“You – you alone will have the stars as no one else has them…In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night…You – only you – will have stars that can laugh.” Well said, Little Prince. Here’s to Antoine de Saint-Exupéry… may he rest in peace.

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“All for one and one for all” – Happy Birthday to Alexandre Dumas!

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Alexandre Dumas – a bibliophile household name around the world, created some of the most memorable stories of love, adventure, history, revenge and politics in the 19th century. On this, what would be his 217th birthday, we would like to pay homage to this wonderful French author and the adventurous worlds he created for his audiences.

Alexandre Dumas was born on July 24th, 1802 the third child of Thomas-Alexandre Dumas, a French nobleman of mixed race (his mother having been a slave in Saint-Domingue, now Haiti) and an innkeeper’s daughter. Dumas (Sr., for all intents and purposes) brought his son to France. The young Dumas was given a thorough education and began writing at a young age and publishing articles for magazines and writing stage plays. 

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When he was 27 years old, Alexandre Dumas saw his first play produced, entitled Henry III and His Courts, which met with acclaim from the very start. A scant year later his second play, Christine, met with just as much success – and Dumas turned his head to writing full time. After enjoying the success of writing several hit plays, Dumas began to try his hand at writing novels. His first novel, published as a serial (as novels often were at the time) was based on one of his earlier, popular plays! Dumas didn’t stop with a work on his Le Capitaine Paul, however… oh, no. Dumas proved to be a very versatile writer indeed, as in the first years of his writing he wrote both an 8-volume compilation (with friends) on Celebrated Crime in European history and a book on a fencing master’s take on the Decemberist Revolt in Russia. It was almost as if Dumas was testing out the waters in his writing, trying different kinds on for size - except that this behavior lasted his entire writing career! Dumas wrote in a variety of styles and genres, most all of which met with success.

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Some of his best known and best loved works include The Count of Monte Cristo and The Three Muskateers… both of which happen to have been published in the same year. As if we needed more evidence of this accomplished authors’ capabilities, here are some fast facts about Dumas that you may not have known before:

  • Dumas is one of the most read of French authors in history.
  • Dumas actually at one point built a large chateau outside Paris, that he named the Chateau de Monte-Cristo, right upon its final serial publication in 1846. Unfortunately due to Dumas’ constant money troubles (he spent more than he made on women, entertainment and pleasure) he was made to sell the chateau a mere two years later.
  • He once shot down a racist with class, intelligence and total general badass-ery: “My father was a mulatto, my grandfather was a Negro, and my great-grandfather a monkey. You see, Sir, my family starts where yours ends.” Burn baby burn!
  • Dumas wrote over 100,000 pages in all, and more have been found and attributed to him even after his death.
  • As Napolean Bonaparte disapproved of the author, Dumas fled France for Belgium in 1851 to escape him (and his debts… a happy coincidence).
  • He is accounted for having over 40 mistresses, and fathered at least 4 children between them all. (We had to add in some gossipy news, and ask that we are forgiven for our interest in it all!)

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One thing is for sure – Dumas was a man dedicated to two things in life… his writing and pleasure. He lived for the pleasure of writing and the pleasures of life that his popular writing afforded him. On this July 24th, let us all strive to be more like Dumas! Enjoy your day, live to enjoy your day… and have a drink to celebrate this magnificent author’s birthday. Cheers!

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A Report on Rare Book School from Our 21 Year Attendee, Vic Zoschak Jr.

by Vic Zoschak, Jr.
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Number 21 is now in the books for yours truly, that is Rare Book School course number 21.  In this instance, G-65, i.e., Nick Wilding’s Forgeries, Facsimiles & Sophisticated Copies.  Better known to the 13 of us in class as Fakes & Forgeries.  Nick Wilding, for those of you not familiar with the name, is the Professor of History at Georgia State University, though perhaps he is better known as the fellow who recently identified Massimo De Caro’s copy of Galileo’s Sidereus Nuncius as a forgery, which had, up until Nick got involved, fooled a goodly number of experts as being authentic.

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Nick with the first folio facsimilie

But I get ahead of myself, so back to the beginning of the week, which started out Saturday July 6th.  In brief, it wasn’t so brief, in fact, it was a [expletive deleted] long day: the flight out of SFO was delayed around 2 hours… the rental car place at Dulles did not [immediately] have a car available… all of which contributed to my late arrival, ~ 11:00 pm, in Charlottesville.  Given I had no dinner that day, thank God for Benny Deluca’s!  This a hole-in-the-wall pizza place a block away from my hotel, which is open till 3am on Saturday nights.  And that slice I had that night around 11:30, delicious!

IMG_0474For those new to RBS, things kick off Sunday afternoon, 5ish.  There’s a reception, a Michael Suarez welcome speech & restaurant night.  The latter an opportunity for ~ 10 students to share a meal at one of the local ‘Corner’ restaurants, in my case, Lemongrass Thai.  Wonderful food, wonderful company!

The weekdays start at 8 am, with a gathering in the RBS spaces for coffee, bagels & fruit.  And, of course, conversation with fellow RBS students, staff & faculty.  Classes begin, as Michael reminds all, promptly at 8:30.  But only after washing one’s hands!  RBS has one of the largest, if not THE largest, working collections extant.  Material is handled daily by LOTS of students, so ‘hand washing’ an understandable act of preservation.

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The Vandercook

Our week in G-65 covered, amongst other things, mechanics of printing [relief, intaglio & planographic], including actual printing from a Vandercook; paper attributes; divers means of repair & conservation; sophistications; pen facsimiles; the relevance of provenance, and [of course] visits to UVa’s Albert & Shirley Small Special Collections to look at numerous examples of that we were studying.

Of especial note during the week was the Wednesday night lecture, in this instance, given by my bookseller colleagues Heather O’Donnell & Rebecca Romney of Honey & Wax Booksellers.  They talked about their belief the trade needs to reach out to the next generation of collectors, and in doing so, should consider a paradigm shift from well established paths.  Quite thought provoking.  After, a group of us, including Heather & Rebecca, went to a local restaurant for dinner & conversation.  That evening, I learned Rebecca, in concert with Brian Cassidy, will soon be opening her own shop, Type Punch Matrix, in the Washington DC area.  We wish her every success!

RBS classes conclude on Friday, with the usual highlight of the day a class luncheon.  In our case, we trouped over to Michael’s Bistro & Tap House, a RBS favorite watering hole in the Corners.  I’m sure I speak for all my classmates when I say it was probably the most enjoyable lunch of the week.  The day concludes with a closing reception, where all friendships forged during the week are cemented.

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Vic’s Friday class luncheon!

And so another week at RBS had drawn to a close.  I can say with some surety this course was one of the best I have ever taken, and I’ve taken a few!  That said, I already look forward to number 22 next summer, whatever it may be.  Perhaps see you there?

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Start Off Summer 2019 Right… with an Antiquarian Twist!

Well, fellow bibliophiles… it’s that time of year again! The time of year when kids are out for summer holidays, the days are longer and the heat gives us ever more reasons to stay in the shade of the umbrella with a book! (Of course, we can really always find reasons to stick with a book… cold winter? Curl up with a book! Happy spring? Take a book on your picnic! You get the gist…) In honor of the recent start to summer 2019 we would like to share some of our favorites that you may or may not have read before! 

Start your summer off right… here are some of our preferred “beach reads”… with an antiquarian twist, of course!

 

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1. The Great Gatsby (1925): The ultimate party read – who wouldn’t want to find out what all is going on behind the greatest host in history’s eyes? Perhaps it is finally time to pick this classic up and find out for yourself!

 

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2. Great Expectations (1861): Of course we can’t recommend some antiquarian faves without putting in one of our main man’s most beloved novels. Great Expectations is popular for many reasons – and many of those reasons make it great company for a day at the beach! Murder, unconditional love, convicts… in a way Great Expectations is a very early kind of crime fiction! What could possibly make this less of a wonderful beach read? Try it, we know you’ll love it as much as we do. (And no, we do not recommend you bring our 1861 3rd edition to the beach with you… but isn’t it pretty??)

 

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3. The Talented Mr. Ripley (1955): Another intense one (we are noticing a trend here) is this psychological thriller by the same complex and wonderful author, Patricia Highsmith, who wrote Strangers on a Train - her first novel which was later adapted for the silver screen by none other than Alfred Hitchcock. The Talented Mr. Ripley has just as much intrigue to entertain you… and the best part? There are five novels featuring this complicated villain – so don’t despair once you’ve finished the first installment!

 

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4. War of the Worlds (1897): For you science fiction buffs out there, we’ve included this novel as it is one of the most commented on and famous in the entire genre… not to mention that it is one of the first of its kind! War of the Worlds describes the conflict between mankind and an alien race – which is pretty darn notable for a work first serialized in 1897. Make sure to leave hours for this one, though – it isn’t a book easy to put down!

 

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5. Jaws (1974): Beaches. Sharks. Death. Enough said? For those of you that love to wallow in paranoia and/or scare your friends and family – this one is for you! (Hint: Don’t become inspired by this read to yell “shark!” at a beach to freak out your loved ones. They usually don’t find it funny. Neither do the authorities.)

 

And one for good luck!

 

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6. Treasure Island (1883): We kind of feel like this one is also self-explanatory as a beach read, as what kind of story containing the open water, pirates and buried treasure wouldn’t find its home by the sea? But if you’ve only ever seen the movie version, we highly recommend this wonderful classic – fun for all ages!

Just please do us all a favor and keep your books safe from sand and water… you can take an antiquarian bookseller to the beach but you can’t keep us from worrying!

Enjoy your summers!

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