Literacy is a Gift

All week I'd been looking forward to Pastry Day at breakfast. Pastry day is Thursday. Tuesday is Bacon and Eggs Day. Sunday is brunch. Every other day is cereal and toast.

I missed it. I slept through Pastry Day and was really upset about it. So I took myself out to the Alternative Tuck Shop, which is the official name of the famous bakery around our little corner. I had a cranberry white chocolate muffin, a cup of tea, and a bagel with butter. The muffin reminded me of the cranberry orange muffins from UIndy. Oh How I miss the Perk's cranberry orange muffins!

I have my first tutorial in less than two hours. I think I'm ready for it but we'll see how I feel come nooner.

I must wrestle with Rawls again for the next few days. Wish me more luck.

Apparently a big thing here that everyone loves to do is go to "bops." A "bop" is a themed party held on a Friday or Saturday night by various colleges at Oxford. They're usually themed something a little bit off the wall. This week's bop theme is "Junior High Black Tie." I'm assuming we're supposed to dress up as much as a 12 year old would. What would my 12 year old self wear to a black tie affair? I'm guessing my mother would have made me a modest, long sleeved, T-length, scooped neck black dress with an empire waist. I'd wear tights and one inch heeled black shoes which I'd take off within 15 minutes of being there. I might have combed my hair, but I doubt it. Oh, and a lot of lip gloss. My 12 year old self would have loved lip gloss.

I think that one's tomorrow. Tonight is karaoke in the JCR. (Junior Common Room). Wednesday is the night to go out, I guess. There's the Real formal dinner where you can't just wear your robe over jeans, you actually have to dress up. They serve wine at dinner and there's always a trivia game right afterwords in the JCR. Most people go. It's tradition. Some of the questions are a little biased, though, asking about old British television shows that none of the foreign student population knows about. We constitute more than half of the college's population.

Yesterday we had pizza for lunch and it made me miss home. Yesterday we had burritos for dinner and it made me miss home.

Oh, and the other day I went to the library to find a particular book by Flavious Josephus. The number for it was F1733/2. That's not how the numbers usually run in the HMC Library. They usually look something like JD 30 RAW. So I joyfully went to my favorite person in all of HMC, the librarian, to ask for help. I love asking her for help. She always helps in the warmest way possible. She lit up, "oh! That means it's in the stacks! Come right with me, darling." So we went down stairs, through the librarian's office, and into the back room. "Whot number is it, dear-y, let's have a look. Ah, F1733. "F" just means it's a big book and seventeen thirty-three is the year it was published, follow me!" We walked down a long hall with shelves to the ceiling on the right side. Most of them were right next to each other so there was no way to get between them. Each row of shelves had a crank about chest high and depending on where your book is, you turn that crank and it moves all the shelves down, opening a walkway between. Magnificent.

These were the books kept in locked rooms and under glass cases back home. These were the books you weren't allowed to touch with your grubby little fingers because they're delicate and important. And old.

I told dear Sue Killoran that I felt like I shouldn't be touching books this old and precious. Her sincerely hearty remark was "Oh, I think they like it. It's the best way to love a book, you know, to get it out and use it. That's whot they're for!" God bless this woman. She got the book for me and put it on foam wedges to support the spine, (it's a little old, she reminded me) and a long string of heavy beads that are lain across the pages to keep them from closing on you. She set this all up for me and said in an apologetic voice that "Now, we just ask that you not eat or drink around it. And you can't take it with you, but you can use it here as long as you'd like." That's all. Please don't eat around this 300 year old book. And don't carry it around outside. I think I shouldn't even be touching it and she just thinks I shouldn't eat around it! I guess that's how it is in a country that's more than 200 years old. Things aren't untouchable until...Well I don't know cuz I've been touching everything around here.

The book was so old that in many cases they used the letter "f" in place of the letter "s." A few examples: Jofephus. King of Perfia. Hiftory. Fo. Thofe. Difguife. Fucceffional (my favorite). Fuffer (my other favorite). Forfake. It made for some difficult reading and the verses I was suppsed to read weren't numbered in this translation. Sue Killoran went on a hunt for a more recent verfion for me and found one from 1926. Much more recent. She didn't bring it around for about 15/20 minutes though, becaufe she didn't want to "spoil my fun." She encouraged me to take pictures if I wanted. She commented on how clean and clear the pages actually were. Often, she said, a book will be in terrible condition on the outfide, but the infide will be in nearly pefect condition. Such was the case with 1733 Jofephus.

The pages were thick and surprisingly white. The text was somewhat hard to read because of the spellings and font. Some of the pages were printed and bound crookedly. Someone had written on the first few pages before the title page in a blue fountain pen. Maybe it had been black once. Sue Killoran thought this was wonderful, that someone had written in this magnificent book.

I compared 1733 Jofephus to 1926 Jofephus. 1926 Jofephus was 6 inches tall while 1733 Jofephus was at least a foot. 1926 was divided into volumes with bible thin pages and was yellowed, falling apart, and an all aroud piece of junk compared to 1733. I attributed it to the fact that in 1733 a book was an extremely intense process and there weren't that many to go around. They were fashioned to last. By 1926 things were much easier. Cheaper materials, faster production, etc. etc. you get the idea.

And while I used 1926 Jofephus to cite in my essay, 1733 Jofephus spent some time with me in the light of day, stretching his spine and getting some much deserved credit for being who he was. I think the librarian was right. Old books aren't tired, sour old things who want to be left alone. They're bored and wise, waiting to teach us bright eyed and bushy tailed youths something they've known for a long time.