Lately, I’ve been on the lookout when in thrift stores for literary-related knickknacks. I’ve found a cute frame with a Winnie the Pooh theme and a ceramic Beatrix Potter decoration. My dream is to have a big space I can fill like a library with lots of books, magazines and literary decorations. In the small space I have, I decorate. I’ve framed an old bookplate (signage for my library), put up a postcard of my old college library in the winter that my professor sent my grade on, ripped an old photo of my hometown out of a frame and replaced it with a Betsy-Tacy neighborhood map, and done fun things like that.I have postcards of author homes and sketches and movie ads of novel adaptations.
Books, it seems, have a potential for providing fun even when one is not reading them. Even as a kid I used to cut pictures of book covers out of my Troll and Scholastic catalogs and paste them in a little scrapbook. How was it possible to enjoy that? And, yet, I did.
This weekend I found, but did not buy, two ceramic bowls with scenes from Charles Dickens’s Oliver and a Peter Rabbit coin bank. The strangest thing I found was a piece of wood engraved with two of my initials and and the word Ivanhoe. I’m trying to figure that one out.