
For many, many years of her life my grandmother belonged to similar types of book clubs. My shelves are filled with her collection of lovely, worn editions of classic works in tattered cases. It's with great enthusiasm I watch my own lovely little collection starting as well - I've always purchased trade paperback editions of modern books, and my own bookcase is filled with volumes that reflect this preference. I love them for their variety and color, and the way they feel in the hand while they're being read - for me reading a book is as much a tactile experience as a narrative one. I've never been drawn to mass market hardcover editions with their glossy slipcovers and dull bindings, but these editions are well thought out and lovely, and remind me so much of my grandmother's collection that I absolutely adore them. Here's to many more months of literary presents arriving via mail!
On a slightly related note, I've been systematically working my way through the writings of Kurt Vonnegut over the last few weeks and arrived home this afternoon having finished reading Mother Night only to discover my other package from Powell's had finally arrived, containing Galapagos and Cat's Cradle. Excellent timing!
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