Books make me happy.
This is the bookcase in my study. (How do I remove a book? Carefully, very carefully.) It is one of seven bookcases in our house - all stuffed full of books. The overflow is now on the bedroom floor - four towers, steadily getting higher.
I just love books - old books, new books, library books, pristine books, books with scribbles in them. Every thing about them - the front cover and spine designs, the smell, the typography, turning the leaves, the anticipation of a great story, and of course, actually reading them! Through them I live adventurous and glamorous and sometimes tragic lives. I get to know people I wouldn't normally meet and travel to places that I will probably never see in real life.
I have just finished Trollope's
The Warden, am currently reading JG Ballard's
Super-Cannes, and waiting on my bedside table are Paul Auster's
Travels in the Scriptorium and
England, England (Julian Barnes).
We popped into Coffee & Books today - a lovely little second-hand bookshop in Fish Hoek, where you can browse the books, have a coffee while paging through them, chat to owner Bruce Clemence, and at certain times, also have a curry or a roti. And came away with three books, amongst them Alan Hollinghurst's The Folding Star.
The towers are growing.