Chronicles of the Virus Day 41. Crack the Books.
Yesterday was World Book Day.
It was a sad day. Normally, on April 23rd and thereabouts, there would be book fairs in quite a few cities and towns. This year, if you didn't browse online, or the few, popular titles at the local kiosk (they're open to sell newspapers, considered essential), you couldn't pick up a new book. Not that that many people seem to care, not in Spain.
Not yet seventy percent of the population reads with regularity. Just over thirty percent never pick up a book. This group alleges that they either, have no time, prefer other entertainment (read "television"), or are not interested in reading in any way, shape, or form.
I have a book I bought at the beginning of the quarantine, but it's hard going, probably because it's in Spanish. It's the latest by Dolores Redondo, author of the Baztán trilogy (which was very well translated into English), La Cara Norte del Corazón. It's about a Spanish woman police officer doing a course with the FBI, who is chosen to help catch a serial killer in New Orleans in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. I suppose that, even though originally written in Spanish, seeing English names and knowing that the characters speak English in "real life", my mind isn't wrapping itself around the story.
I have hundreds of other books I can re-read, though. I can't really imagine life without books. While the internet has taken away from my reading habits, it hasn't replaced them. My biggest lament is that I can no longer read with a lot of background noise. My brain now gets distracted, so I have to wait for my husband to go to bed to read in the quiet of the night. He also reads in bed because he says that's where it's most comfortable for him. Our daughter reads anywhere, with any noise. She even studies with noise and loud rock music. Different people, different habits, but definitely readers.
I prefer my books in English. It is my native language, after all, despite having been born here, now having lived over half my life here, and having had my parents speak Galician to me since I was born. I know English, and it's my most natural form of expression. I have become absolutely fluent in Spanish, but it's still a secondary language to me. Whenever I can, I buy books online in English. Or at bookstores in Santiago, where they have a few shelves devoted to foreign languages. Sometimes, I browse at the bookstore, see something I like, and then go find it cheaper online.
Because that's the ultimate block to reading, the money. At the fairs that would have dotted the landscape these days, all books would have a five percent discount. But, they're still expensive. A hardcover book might run to €25 or more. The minimum wage is around €950 a month. Instead of buying the book, most people would put that amount of gas in their cars to be able to come and go from work during a week. There are cheaper books, yes, but even so, on a tight budget, most of the monthly income is distributed to other areas, and little or nothing is left over for a book or two.
Libraries in small towns don't tend to have many different titles. In ours, there are the de rigueur popular titles, and many reference books. Then, there are walls of different subjects that are interesting only to students of those subjects. The most popular area of the library is the computer area, where you can log online for free.
So, during this quarantine, most people are not going to catch up on reading, because they have no reading to catch up on. I am going to finish the book I bought; I just have about twenty pages to go. Then, I'll continue with something I'll dig out of the many boxes of books I have. After I do some more housework that needs catching up on, too. And writing. I need to sit down and write. I should continue to paint with my pastels, too. Yet, I know there will be moments where I'll just sit in the sun with the cats, and let the minutes go by without counting them, waiting for the moment I am told I can leave the house without any specific, allowed errand to run. May 9th is the day that has been set, now. I hope this virus leaves us in peace.
The inhabitant of the White House isn't the only one whose judgment has been brought into question. (Nor the only one who doesn't pick up a book.) A man in Albacete decided to contract by phone the services of a lady of the night for twenty euros. When he arrived at her apartment, she took his money and then denied him services. He decided to report the fraud to the police. The police explained to him what it means to be in lockdown, and decided to relieve him of the mandatory six hundred euro fine.
Another man in Logroño, who doesn't seem to have any social media, or watch the news, or read newspapers, or have much contact with the outside world, (I'd like to think he wouldn't have done this if he'd seen how those who did it before him ended up.) decided to take his pet fish for a walk. In the fish bowl. Down the street. The police explained the physiological non-need of the fish to go for a walk and also gave him the pertinent paper with the monetary amount he must surrender.
And, please, please, don't put anything into your bodies that isn't meant to be eaten. There are enough examples of Darwin's theories out there.
Life continues.
It was a sad day. Normally, on April 23rd and thereabouts, there would be book fairs in quite a few cities and towns. This year, if you didn't browse online, or the few, popular titles at the local kiosk (they're open to sell newspapers, considered essential), you couldn't pick up a new book. Not that that many people seem to care, not in Spain.
Not yet seventy percent of the population reads with regularity. Just over thirty percent never pick up a book. This group alleges that they either, have no time, prefer other entertainment (read "television"), or are not interested in reading in any way, shape, or form.
I have a book I bought at the beginning of the quarantine, but it's hard going, probably because it's in Spanish. It's the latest by Dolores Redondo, author of the Baztán trilogy (which was very well translated into English), La Cara Norte del Corazón. It's about a Spanish woman police officer doing a course with the FBI, who is chosen to help catch a serial killer in New Orleans in the aftermath of hurricane Katrina. I suppose that, even though originally written in Spanish, seeing English names and knowing that the characters speak English in "real life", my mind isn't wrapping itself around the story.
I have hundreds of other books I can re-read, though. I can't really imagine life without books. While the internet has taken away from my reading habits, it hasn't replaced them. My biggest lament is that I can no longer read with a lot of background noise. My brain now gets distracted, so I have to wait for my husband to go to bed to read in the quiet of the night. He also reads in bed because he says that's where it's most comfortable for him. Our daughter reads anywhere, with any noise. She even studies with noise and loud rock music. Different people, different habits, but definitely readers.
I prefer my books in English. It is my native language, after all, despite having been born here, now having lived over half my life here, and having had my parents speak Galician to me since I was born. I know English, and it's my most natural form of expression. I have become absolutely fluent in Spanish, but it's still a secondary language to me. Whenever I can, I buy books online in English. Or at bookstores in Santiago, where they have a few shelves devoted to foreign languages. Sometimes, I browse at the bookstore, see something I like, and then go find it cheaper online.
Because that's the ultimate block to reading, the money. At the fairs that would have dotted the landscape these days, all books would have a five percent discount. But, they're still expensive. A hardcover book might run to €25 or more. The minimum wage is around €950 a month. Instead of buying the book, most people would put that amount of gas in their cars to be able to come and go from work during a week. There are cheaper books, yes, but even so, on a tight budget, most of the monthly income is distributed to other areas, and little or nothing is left over for a book or two.
Libraries in small towns don't tend to have many different titles. In ours, there are the de rigueur popular titles, and many reference books. Then, there are walls of different subjects that are interesting only to students of those subjects. The most popular area of the library is the computer area, where you can log online for free.
So, during this quarantine, most people are not going to catch up on reading, because they have no reading to catch up on. I am going to finish the book I bought; I just have about twenty pages to go. Then, I'll continue with something I'll dig out of the many boxes of books I have. After I do some more housework that needs catching up on, too. And writing. I need to sit down and write. I should continue to paint with my pastels, too. Yet, I know there will be moments where I'll just sit in the sun with the cats, and let the minutes go by without counting them, waiting for the moment I am told I can leave the house without any specific, allowed errand to run. May 9th is the day that has been set, now. I hope this virus leaves us in peace.
The inhabitant of the White House isn't the only one whose judgment has been brought into question. (Nor the only one who doesn't pick up a book.) A man in Albacete decided to contract by phone the services of a lady of the night for twenty euros. When he arrived at her apartment, she took his money and then denied him services. He decided to report the fraud to the police. The police explained to him what it means to be in lockdown, and decided to relieve him of the mandatory six hundred euro fine.
Another man in Logroño, who doesn't seem to have any social media, or watch the news, or read newspapers, or have much contact with the outside world, (I'd like to think he wouldn't have done this if he'd seen how those who did it before him ended up.) decided to take his pet fish for a walk. In the fish bowl. Down the street. The police explained the physiological non-need of the fish to go for a walk and also gave him the pertinent paper with the monetary amount he must surrender.
And, please, please, don't put anything into your bodies that isn't meant to be eaten. There are enough examples of Darwin's theories out there.
Life continues.
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