Avi

word craft

blog

A certain sweet, musty-dusty aroma

A Treasury of the TheaterAt some point when I was in high school (in the 1950’s) and I was set upon becom­ing a play­wright, I learned of a new three vol­ume anthol­o­gy of great plays. They were edit­ed (and com­ment­ed upon) by John Gassner, an impor­tant dra­ma crit­ic of the time. The vol­umes con­tained many plays, from the ancient Greeks to mod­ern works. The set was expen­sive, some­thing like twen­ty-five dol­lars (about two hun­dred dol­lars in today’s world) I have no idea where I got the mon­ey (I had var­i­ous odd jobs in those days) but I ordered the books, and I got them.

As for the texts, they met my expec­ta­tions, but there was some­thing else they con­tained that was sur­pris­ing and won­der­ful. The vol­umes had a delight­ful smell! I had (nor have) no idea why they had this allur­ing smell. Was it the paper? The bind­ing glue? Was it some­thing in the ink with which the plays were print­ed? No idea.

I not only enjoyed read­ing the books, but I enjoyed smelling them too.

This came to mind when I recent­ly pur­chased an old book from some online deal­er. Some research I was doing. When I opened the book, I was imme­di­ate­ly tak­en by the book’s smell, which I iden­ti­fied as “old-book smell.” It made me recall those vol­umes of plays.

Book Row
Cred­it: The Strand Bookstore

There is a cer­tain sweet, musty-dusty aro­ma giv­en off by old books which I iden­ti­fy with pure plea­sure. Per­haps it comes from my hap­py wan­der­ings through used book stores along “Book Row” on low­er Fourth Avenue in New York City when I was young. Or the sweet smell of libraries. Or my own over­stuffed rooms—stuffed with books—over the years. I sus­pect my friend Bob Topp, who runs the mar­velous Her­mitage Book­shop in Den­ver, knows exact­ly what I’m writ­ing about. I won­der if he can tell the vin­tage of a book mere­ly by its smell.

All this is a reminder, I think, that a book is not just con­tent. At its best, a book is an art object, which fills the sens­es, the mind, the touch, the eyes, and for me, the nose, too.

As for those vol­umes of plays—after more than fifty years—I still have them. A lit­tle fad­ed perhaps—but still a pleasure—in every sense of the word.

4 thoughts on “A certain sweet, musty-dusty aroma”

  1. I agree–there’s some­thing in the smell of old books that can trans­port you to the past. Maybe it’s the dif­fer­ent trees and oth­er mate­ri­als that are the chang­ing com­po­nents of the paper stock. Words from the past print­ed on phys­i­cal mate­ri­als from the past–digital ver­sions can’t com­pete with that combination.

    Reply
  2. I agree. The aro­ma of papers and glue must some­how stim­u­late my brain into clear­er think­ing. When new books arrived in our library I often host­ed a day of smelling and touch­ing the new books for all of the kids and teach­ers too.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Subscribe to Blog via Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Recent Posts