In which I am stronger than you think
Aug. 16th, 2006 02:30 pmI was in town this morning, shopping for this and that, and being conspicuously undercharged all the way, from the coffee beans to the pancetta. This is good. Then I arrived at the Oxfam bookshop, and discovered why the fates were slipping me these extra pennies. There was a Chalet School book that I don't have in hardback. A reprint, with a very tatty dustcover, but neither of those troubles me. It was eighty quid, though, and that troubles me a great deal.
Nevertheless, you are sitting there thinking that I bought it anyway. Aren't you? He's just finished a book, you're thinking, and he's got all the willpower and resolve of overcooked asparagus when it comes to things he wants...
Well, you're wrong. I left it on the shelf, and I'm not going back for it. It's just too much. I did once spend fifty quid on a Chalet School book, in the same shop yet; but that was the day my dad died, and I didn't much care about the money. And the book was a first edition, and still little more than half the price of this one; and more than all of that, I thought he'd have appreciated the gesture. He was always much amused by the pleasure that I took from these 'dreadful' books (his word), especially as they did act as a link between his childhood and mine: the first of them was published in 1926, when he would have been six, and the last in 1970, when I was eleven.
There's a difference, though, between being amused and taking the piss. I am not going back for that book.
Nevertheless, you are sitting there thinking that I bought it anyway. Aren't you? He's just finished a book, you're thinking, and he's got all the willpower and resolve of overcooked asparagus when it comes to things he wants...
Well, you're wrong. I left it on the shelf, and I'm not going back for it. It's just too much. I did once spend fifty quid on a Chalet School book, in the same shop yet; but that was the day my dad died, and I didn't much care about the money. And the book was a first edition, and still little more than half the price of this one; and more than all of that, I thought he'd have appreciated the gesture. He was always much amused by the pleasure that I took from these 'dreadful' books (his word), especially as they did act as a link between his childhood and mine: the first of them was published in 1926, when he would have been six, and the last in 1970, when I was eleven.
There's a difference, though, between being amused and taking the piss. I am not going back for that book.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-16 01:38 pm (UTC)And do I infer that this is, in fact, a book of which you already have a copy, only not in hardback? It's the words that matter, you know (I am, myself, currently reading a book in a most inelegant print-it-yourself format, and loving every minute of it...).
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-16 04:54 pm (UTC)I know, I do know. I'm just reaching that point where about half my collection is in hardback, and so the balance tilts towards thoughts of completism; and they're nicer to hold, much nicer to read in that form, and they look better on the shelf, and...
But I'm not going back.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-16 06:03 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-17 09:16 am (UTC)There's about sixty books in all, and the point about the name is that it's an English boarding school for girls but set up on the Continent - originally in Austria, then back in the UK for WWII, then in Switzerland. They have pupils from all over, and hold lessons in three languages. Basically they're classic English school stories - games, rivalries, pranks-that-go-wrong, moral lessons learned, all of that - with the added exoticism of the continent. Lead character throughout the series is the school's first pupil, kid sister of the founder, who grows up to marry a doctor from the sanatorium up the valley (a lot of Chalet School girls marry doctors) and have twelve children; the last book of the series sees her eldest triplet daughters in their last term at the school. They're sentimental, religious, prescriptive (all good CS girls grow up to be wives & mothers, adjuncts to their men), all these bad things - and yet they're a joy and an addiction. It's not the fascination of what's awful, because they're not, but nor is it the kind of appeal that's susceptible to explanation; they either hook you or they don't. You will find fans all over:
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-16 06:59 pm (UTC)If they really do think the book is worth £80, surely there are other ways of selling it rather than putting it on a shelf where any light fingered person might slip it into a poacher's pocket?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-17 01:52 am (UTC)Uh-huh.
That is one of the few cases where I agree with "walk away and don't go back"
(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-17 07:39 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2006-08-17 09:00 am (UTC)Didn't want it anyway. Snf.