The first thing I notice as I enter the bookshop is the staircase, and my heart sinks. Of course, the second-hand book section is upstairs—and with my luck, the chances of there being a lift in this old building are practically zero.
I browse the ramsj—the remaindered pile—but it’s all Dutch books, and none of them worth spending any money on. Besides, if it’s new books I want, I’ll order them online. Far more convenient.
As I navigate the narrow paths, a spark of hope flickers into being. That bare area there at the far end, is that…? Maybe they do have a lift after all.
The moment I exit the lift, I feel like I’ve stepped through a magical portal and entered an enchanted world. If I were wise, I’d go back down right this minute, and leave this shop as fast as I can.
But I’m not that smart. Not when surrounded by so many orphaned books, and all of them looking for a new home. Time loses its meaning as I explore row upon row of books, trying to locate just that one gem. The one that’s already calling my name.
Again, it’s mostly Dutch books, but also several shelves packed with English titles. There, up on the highest shelf, are two Robert Burns volumes, but from my seated position I can’t even read the titles on the spines.
A friendly fellow booklover gets them down and hands them to me, but as I flip through the first one, I feel almost cheated. I’d expected poetry, not a biography.
Oh well, on to the second. And again, I’m disappointed. Famous as the man may have been, I just don’t like his poetry. Did he really have to write so many love poems?
I move on to the next shelf: novels. Here, I find two promising titles at unbeatable prices. But there’s more to explore.
My heart skips a beat when I spot it: sheet music, hidden away in a low shelf unit. An eclectic mix of modern and classical. Most of it is piano music, but there’s an entire shelf dedicated to vocal music too, and, unable to control myself, I pull all of these volumes out.
Several Bachs, a complete score of Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Brahms’ Ein Deutsches Requiem, a mass and a requiem by Schubert, and so, so much more. I’m sorely tempted to buy more than my chair can carry home.
In the end, I settle on just two: Bach’s Matthäus Passion (a very old and beautiful edition Peters), and Handel’s Messiah.
On my way back home Erbarme dich sings in my head.
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Daan, it's good to see new material, to have you here!