We came to book collecting because our birthdays fall eight days apart.
When married people have birthdays that close together, a certain natural competitiveness develops. Or maybe it was just us. In any event, birthday week had degenerated into extravagant spending and a furious determination on the part of each to outdo the other that inevitably resulted in our squandering money that we could not afford on gifts the recipients didnt particularly like but, because of the cost, could not admit to disliking until months, sometimes years, later.
Finally, with the maturity that comes with advancing age, we decided to put a stop to the problem. As a result, four years ago something like the following conversation took place:
I want you to promise me that you wont spend a lot of money on my birthday.
Sure.
Ohhh no. Thats what you said last year and look what happened.
What do you mean? The nightgown wasnt that expensive.
Two hundred dollars is expensive when I only spent fifty.
Nobody asked you to only spend fifty.
You asked me to only spend fifty. You would have gotten upset if I spent more than fifty.
Depends on what you got me.
You never like what I get you.
Thats why I didnt want you to spend more than fifty.
Its not fair. You have it easy. You always go second.
Look, you knew my birthday fell eight days before yours when you married me.
Ten years and eight days.
Very funny.
Why dont we just set a limit this year and stick to it for once?
Sure.
No, I mean it. Besides, its more creative. Unless you dont want to be creative, of course.
I can be as creative as you.
Great. How about forty dollars?
How about thirty?
Twenty-five.
Twenty.
Fif okay, twenty.
Great.
Remember, no cheating this year. If you cheat, you lose.
Lose? What, are we competing?
Thus began the search for War and Peace.
If you want a book, the obvious place to begin is a bookstore. In Lenox, Massachusetts, where we had lived since abandoning Manhattan three years before, the local bookstore is called, conveniently enough, The Bookstore. The Bookstore (Serving the community since last Tuesday) is owned and occasionally operated by Matthew Tannenbaum, a shaggy dog of a man who considers it a booksellers responsibility to provide a convivial atmosphere for his customers.
Nancy, did you hear about the two cannibals who were eatinga clown? asked Matthew. One of the cannibals stopped for a minute and turned to the other cannibal. Do you taste something funny?
I liked the one about the near-sighted fireman better.
Matthew looked disappointed. So did everyone.
Jo walked up to the desk. Although she is technically an employee, Jo is actually more of a spiritual figure, a cross between an aging hippie and a schoolmarm. She has long straight gray hair, pulled back, excellent posture, a low, throaty voice, and a serious, unflappable manner. She will occasionally clasp her hands in front of her while she is speaking.
Are you looking for anything in particular? she asked.
In addition to the usual best-sellers and major new releases, The Bookstore stocks a larger than normal selection of obscure poetry, alternative fiction, Judaica, womens studies, Native American studies, African American studies, paranormal psychology, and organic vegetarian cookbooks. In the front, there is a rack of magazines for the intellectually serious, such as Granta, Mother Jones, and The Utne Reader. Next to the magazines, there is an extensive childrens section presided over by a huge, incredibly filthy stuffed bear that every child under the age of five sticks his mouth on.
Im looking for War and Peace .
Certainly. Jo led the way to the paperback section at the extreme rear of the store, reached down to the bottom shelf, and produced a Penguin edition. It was so thick that it looked like a piece of a Duraflame.
No, no. We already have a paperback. I was hoping for a hardcover. Its a birthday present for Larry.
Youre getting Larry War and Peace for his birthday? interjected Matthew, who had tagged along behind us. Whats the matter? Things arent going well at home?
No. We made this we decided forget it.
Ah. Jo nodded sagely. Lets check Books in Print then. She went back to the desk and pulled a big brown volume down fromthe shelf. Theres a Modern Library edition for twenty-five dollars, she said, running her finger down a column on the Tolstoy page. We could order it for you.
What does it look like?
It looks like a book, said Matthew. What were you expecting?
Well, we dont have War and Peace in the store at the moment, Jo went on, but we do have David Copperfield, if you want to get a sense of what a Modern Library book is like.
She walked across the store and plucked a small, unimpressive book from a shelf. It was flimsily bound with thin paper leaves. The print was small. It did not seem a big step up from the paperback.
I dont think so.
Of course. Jo nodded and consulted Books in Print again. Heres another hardcover. Its a two-volume set for forty dollars.
What does it look like? Does it look like a birthday present?
If you wrapped it, it would look like a birthday present, said Matthew.
I mean, does it have pictures and larger type?
I dont know, Jo said. I havent seen it.
What do you want War and Peace for anyway? Matthew asked. Why dont you get Larry a real classic like Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus?
I dont think so. Besides, Larry likes war. You should have seen him cooing over the battle maps in the Civil War book. I told him, If you like battles so much, read War and Peace . It has great battles. But all we have is this old beat-up paperback and he said, The print is too small, and I said, What did we get you those reading glasses for then? and he said, Just because I got them doesnt mean I like to use them. So I thought, if I got him a nice copy of War and Peace as a birthday present, something in hardcover with big print, hed have to read it, and then he would have this great experience. Besides, then Id win the bet.
Bet? asked Matthew. What bet?
Nothing. Its a good birthday present. As long as it doesnt costmore than twenty dollars or not a lot more anyway.
Jo thought for a moment. Have you tried Books? she asked.
Books?
Its a used-book store in Egremont, she explained. Ill call for you and see if they have a copy.
A used book? Buying a used book sounded worse than buying a paperback. Used book evoked images of smudged and dog-eared copies of college texts, Beginning Chemistry or some such, the relevant passages of each chapter underlined in somebody elses yellow marker.
But Jo was already on the phone to Books. Luckily, they didnt have a copy of War and Peace either.
Where to try next? There wasnt any point in visiting any of the other new-book stores in the area. Everyone uses the same Books in Print.
No, not a new book. And not a used one. That didnt seem to leave much. And then, with almost staggering naivete, the thought of those books that they run at the beginning of Masterpiece Theater came to mind. Those looked nice. Maybe something like that. But where did one find books like those?