Free Words

By now we have all seen a Little Free Library book box near our homes or on walks throughout the city. I built one out of scrap wood and attached it to the big Linden tree outside our home during the Covid pandemic to give people a sense of less isolation through the gift of wonder that books can bring. The book box is still there and has seen hundreds of books move in and out over the years since it was built.

And while it is just outside our door, I am still drawn to investigate the contents of other boxes I come across as I traverse the city. This past week on a street I had never walked before, I spotted a smallish book box affixed to a fence pole. I made a beeline for it, jaywalking across the street. It was one of those days when luck was on my side, as it held three books that had been on the periphery of my mental reading list for some time and one hardcover edition of a paperback I already had, so an upgrade in a sense. I walked away with four books, which is a good day for me.

It is interesting to see what arrives in our book box throughout the year. Surprisingly, many best sellers, hyped by their publishers but less so by their readers. Classics in paperback, some of which were no doubt the result of a class reading requirement. Esoteric titles, a few odd textbooks, and even on occasion, special editions. I do not edit nor control what arrives or stays in the book box and have even seen some adult themed titles and controversial socio-political works. I want freedom of expression to extend at least to the tree in front of my house.

But what I delight in most is what I often find slipped into the pages of a book that acts as a bookmark for the reader – old airline tickets that I imagine the reader fixed to its pages in seat 23C, an old Polaroid photo, a to-do list that looks very much like my to-do list, a personal letter. On more than one occasion, I found a pressed dollar bill to mark a place in the book. And of course, bookmarks of bookstores from around the world. I look them up to see if they are still in business. I am a historical voyeur at heart in these moments.

I am even drawn to the inscriptions when books are given as gifts, despite never imagining myself ever abandoning such a gift. Some are quite poignant. And there are those who write their own names on the inside cover or front page, and those who inscribe a date or address. It seems many of us interact with books in close personal ways indeed.

My good friends implore me to utilize my local library more than buying books. I have cut back as I, too, have come to realize the importance of the lending library to a free society – a freedom whose resilience is only as strong as a literate and informed people.

So, with the ready availability of free books through these boxes, others that I buy (if only to support independent book sellers I tell myself), and what I reserve through my local library, I think of myself as an equal opportunity consumer of words – by whatever means necessary.