A secondhand bookstore ought to be every booklovers paradise. Sure, it's nice to have your bookshelf filled with a nice, neat and consistent assembly of Penguin Classics, but there's something charming about the motley assortment of books new and old, tall and short, and of different colour variation, all jigsawed in together.
However. Sometimes we booklovers must remain wary. Let not the bliss cloud your senses, my friends. One must remember that there are two types of secondhand bookstores: cheap ones and expensive ones.
I picked up a tiny volume expecting to exchange two or three dollars for it. Imagine my surprise when the man looked inside the cover (a general peruse I might've done myself before I strutted so confidently to the counter) and demanded I give him fourteen of my dollars. It's not an excessive sum, but I'm trying very hard to watch my money, and books are the main culprit - in my line of business - of bankruptcy. Suffice it to say, the expression my face took on at the announced price remained affixed to that place between forehead and chin for many minutes afterward. I was so shocked I gave the man all my money (having scarcely more than that on my person), and floated, as if in a dream, out of the store.
You see, that fourteen dollars had been for my lunch that day. And as I looked mournfully down, filled with a consumer's remorse, at the volume, I considered the irony of my situation. Camus' 'The Myth of Sisyphus' is a philosophical text that discusses the topic of suicide. However, in the hands of a man faced with starvation, the novel attained new heights of uselessness. read more