The Echo of Old Books

by Barbara Davis

In this life, there are losses that can never be anticipated. Grief that comes at you out of the darkness. Blows that land so swiftly and deftly that there’s simply no way to prepare for them.

After three readings, the opening chapter had imprinted itself on her brain.

Does she mean that she’s read chapter one, three times?

Her lack of a social life or any serious professional circle. Her strict avoidance of anything that might lead to romantic involvement. It made for a narrow existence, a blur of sameness with little to distinguish one day from the next. On the other hand, there were no disasters, which made the sameness worth it. Most of the time.

manage to get some time alone with the golden-haired Teddy. I’ve done my homework and know his particulars. Theodore. Teddy for short. Middle name Lawrence, like his father and grandfather before him. Born April 14, 1917. Attended The Browning School through the first half of

SPOILER— This is a rather big clue that Ashlyn can use to find the author of this, and then the subsequent book. She’s got a librarian (later in the tale) looking for a newspaper woman nicknamed “Goldie” while this clue is much more clear. A “third” of a family’s line named “Theodore Lawrence” who played polo and liked his name and face in the papers as often as possible should be easier to find.

Like people, it is the books with the most scars that have lived the fullest lies. Faded, creased, dusty, broken. These have the best stories to tell, the wisest counsel to offer. —Ashlyn Greer, The Care & Feeding of Old Books

Is this supposed to say “lives” or, as it already does, “lies”? I would think the sentence makes more sense to complete the metaphor of of living with a life-based word: “have lived the fullest lives.” However, in regard to the stories Ashlyn is reading, the word”lies” could apply; it just wouldn’t make sense in a book she’s written in regard to the care of books.

To read a book is to take a journey, to travel into a vast unknown, to hear the voices of angels both living and dead. —Ashlyn Greer, The Care & Feeding of Old Books

As with all rare things, regular restorative care is essential. Chronic neglect may result in weakening, warping, or other persistent vulnerabilities.

I’m not foolish enough to think your resolve never wavers. I’m keenly aware of how little I bring to the table, and that from time to time you must question the wisdom of what you’re about to do—what you’ll be giving up.

He seems as though he’s only writing these things in hindsight, because he knows she’ll read them.

“This isn’t what I want to do. I don’t think it ever was. I wish I’d realized it sooner, but I realize it now.” She pushes to her feet, her face like a storm cloud. “You can’t be serious!” “But I am. I leave tomorrow. Chicago, then California.”

He’s a “worldly man” but tells the publisher of newspapers exactly where he’s going? It doesn’t occur to him that she might rat them out to Belle’s father in revenge just as she also tells the man of the story she’s about to run to bring down his empire? How is Hemi suddenly so naive?

“This is about her, isn’t it? Your precious Belle.

Goldie knew of his nickname for Belle/Marian? How did she know that? In answer, it’s possible he wrote the nickname while Goldie actually said the real name. After all, this is a long letter to Belle.

“Or is it something else you’ve caught? Something with long legs and a trust fund.” I let the remark pass, refusing to take the bait. “That’s my business.”

That response answers her question. She won’t let the two of you escape.

like a card sharp who knows she’s holding the winning hand.

I feel the desire to PRAISE THE AUTHOR as she uses the CORRECT term “card sharp” and not what some people think it is a “card shark.” I’ve read the wrong way so many times before that I felt this author deserved a kudos.

But how am I any different from my sister if I’m willing to turn a blind eye to a betrayal simply because I can’t bear the truth? And yet, I cannot allow her this petty triumph.

In the happiest times of my life, I have reached for my books. In the saddest times of my life, my books have reached back.

The number of lives we are capable of living is limited only by the number of books we choose to read. —Ashlyn Greer, The Care & Feeding of Old Books

“I have no idea who this Schwab fellow was and I don’t care that his name happened to be on that story. Only one person could have written those things because I only shared them with one person, and that person’s name was . . . is . . . Hugh Garret.”

She practically repeats the whole of what she says here in a moment,

have no idea who this Schwab fellow was, and I don’t care that his name was on that story. Only one person could have written it.”

She has herself so convinced that it was Hemi/Hugh, and she’s rehearsed this to herself for decades to where it’s like a script to her.

Enemies exist in many forms, all of which may affect both longevity and well-being. One must at all times be vigilant against invaders, both seen and unseen.

I love an author the more for having been himself a lover of books. —Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers. —Charles W. Eliot