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The Oldest Book on My Shelves

My par­ents, in their ear­ly col­lege years, both want­ed to be writ­ers. My father, if I recall cor­rect­ly, admired Joseph Con­rad. My moth­er, along with her sis­ter, aspired to be the new Bronte sis­ters. They went on to do oth­er things, and only wrote for their pro­fes­sions. It did mean, how­ev­er, that I grew up in a house of books.

Our moth­er read to me, and my sib­lings, every night. Fri­day was the day for week­ly library vis­its. At some point I was allowed to walk to that local pub­lic library and did so, often, with my own library card. There was a used book­store in the neigh­bor­hood, and in its far back were kids’ books, cheap. 

[I describe both that library and the book­store in my nov­el, Catch You Lat­er Trai­tor.]

Every birth­day, every Christ­mas, I received at least one book. As kids we were encour­aged to have our own book collections.

It’s not real­ly a sur­prise then, that on my shelves I have a few — very few — books from my childhood.

Giant Otto

The old­est is a pic­ture book, Giant Otto, by William Pene Du Bois. My copy was pub­lished in 1936. (It is still in print) I have a vague mem­o­ry of get­ting this book as a gift from my father when we were vis­it­ing my grand­par­ents’ house. He seems to have been away. It would have been dur­ing World War II, and since he was in the Coast Guard, that might explain his absence.

The Arabian Nights

The sec­ond book is an “Illus­trat­ed Junior Library” edi­tion of The Ara­bi­an Nights. On the first page of this book there is this hand­writ­ten inscription:

“To Edward from his friends. Susan. Biff. John. Ann Eliz­a­beth. Decem­ber 23, 1947.” The friends’ names are each in dif­fer­ent handwriting.

Edward is my first (real) name and that date is my 10th birthday.

My guess is that I (and my twin sis­ter) were hav­ing a birth­day par­ty, and these friends got togeth­er to buy me a present. Alas, I have no mem­o­ry of those friends.

Old Granny Fox

The third book is Old Granny Fox, by Thorn­ton W. Burgess. This was per­haps one of the first chap­ter books I read on my own, the first adven­ture nov­el. I was able to buy them — the Green Mead­ow Series — at that used book­store I men­tion above. I think they cost me twen­ty-five cents (allowance mon­ey) and I bought, and read, many of them. This is the only one left.

In time I would read them to my own kids.

The Wind in the Willows

I have lit­tle doubt that these ani­mal sto­ries led to me The Wind in the Wil­lows, by Ken­neth Gra­hame. (No date on my copy) I’m not sure when I came to the book but I loved both the char­ac­ters and the writ­ing, though I did not under­stand the mys­tic pan­the­is­tic chap­ters. I have read the book many times, even as an adult. I still find it wonderful.

The American Past

The final old book, The Amer­i­can Past, by Roger But­ter­field, was a lav­ish­ly illus­trat­ed his­to­ry of the Unit­ed States, the first of its kind. My edi­tion is from 1947, (first edi­tion, sec­ond print­ing). It remains in print (10th edi­tion) on Ama­zon. I am sure that my par­ents pur­chased this book as a way of teach­ing us US his­to­ry. I can’t speak for my broth­er and sis­ter, but I was fas­ci­nat­ed by the text and illus­tra­tions and went through it count­less times.

The only impor­tant child­hood book I don’t have is the copy of Trea­sure Island I first read.

What is curi­ous about these titles, ani­mal sto­ries, adven­ture, his­to­ry, is how I find echoes of them all in my own books. It’s a reminder that the books we read when young — children’s books — can be enor­mous­ly impor­tant to our lives. We keep them on our shelves or in our heads. They become a vital part of who we are, even when we lose them.

I’m lucky enough to still have these few.

What is the old­est children’s book on your shelves?

2 thoughts on “The Oldest Book on My Shelves”

  1. I always enjoy your posts, Avi. Every one of them. I wish we had met dur­ing my time as an author, but I don’t believe we ever have. Sure­ly I would have remem­bered. I’m car­ing for my grand­chil­dren now, so do not have my library in front of me. I have no books from my child­hood, though. We were very poor. My grand­moth­er bought me Lit­tle Gold­en Books and read those to me. At my two-room coun­try school house, I recall that my favorites were Lassie Come Home and Black Gold. Yes, I adored ani­mals. Thank you for all you do for lit­er­a­ture and children.

    Reply

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