Stephen Sparks blogs at Invisible Stories and co-curates Writers No One Reads and buys books for Green Apple Books at San Francisco. His blogs are a lifeboat for the eccentric, great, lost and ignored books, a growing book list to die for, an endless source of really good reading material, books with personality, the anti-consumer lit list.
When I pick up the book—and I do, I do— I can, ten years on, detect a faint scent of cedar, a lingering reminder of the months I locked the book in a chest, hoping to later find it anew. I’m more inclined now to notice physical details, yellowing pages or a corner worn smooth by time, than the words contained between the book’s covers. We’re growing old together, the pair of us, ever-mysterious and unknown to each other.
Given this intimacy, it may not come as a surprise that despite my not-having-read-the-book, I nevertheless recommend it, based on… not false pretenses exactly, but a feeling that this book, the one I haven’t read but feel a deep affinity for regardless, deserves to be read—by others.