Doubleday, an imprint of PRH, will shortly be bringing us a memoir by Jay Parini called Borges and Me, a little extract from which has been trailered at The Daily Beast.
In the extract Parini tells us he was studying at St Andrews University in 1971 and periodically visiting Alastair Reid who’d “correct” the poems he’d write. There he met Jorge Luis Borges who eventually suggested Parini drive him round the highlands which he had not yet seen. When Parini objected that seeing the highlands seemed a bit of a problem since Borges was blind, Borges response was the somewhat cryptic “Oh, no, dear boy. Don’t tell me that you’re blind as well.”
So of course off they set. Their second stop was Dunfermline, way off to the south, where they visited the first library founded by Andrew Carnegie in 1883. Although it was closed, Borges insisted they be admitted — “Dear sir, I’ve come all the way from Argentina to see this library! I’m the National Librarian of Argentina.” Once inside “Borges went over to a row of books and ran his fingers along the dusty spines. Then he pulled one volume off the shelf and, without hesitation, began to lick the spine. It was odd. The Carnegie’s librarian objected, but it was no use. ‘Some books should be tasted’, Borges announced, quoting Francis Bacon. ‘Others devoured’!” I suppose the librarian should have been relieved that the book wasn’t good enough to need to be completely devoured!
I wondered if the licking of books was at all a common practice. Just seems a bit grubby to me, and might tend to make me wary of library borrowing. A Google search suggests it’s not a widespread form of synesthesia, and indeed while googling around I received this news from Meg Cabot who got my pulse going by telling me she’d just done some heavy-duty book-licking — but “In case you’re unfamiliar with the term, a book licker is someone who’s writing a novel, but instead of just finishing it and surrendering it to her editor, she keeps going back and re-reading it over and over, finding tiny things wrong with it, and revising it. She never actually gets to The End.” I don’t know enough about Borges’ writing practice to be able to guess whether he was also this sort of book-licker, but I expect not.
Another general concern with licking and books involves the habit many more or less reluctant readers have of licking their thumb before turning a page. Library users are encouraged to give up this practice. Clearly in “The Age of Corona Virus” we all recognize the desirability of keeping our hands in our pockets.
Spies are, as we all know, constantly being forced to chew up and swallow notes containing compromising information. As far as I know we do not however have any studies of the differences in flavor or nutritional value as between pages from say a shorthand notebook, a romantic novel, and an academic monograph. Or even groundwood, 55# white offset, and 80# matte coated sheets.
I once had a boss who’d bury his nose in the gutter of any new book you handed him, and sniff contentedly. Now we production people were all of course afflicted by this weakness too, if less ostentatiously. Once you’ve spent a bit of time in a book manufacturing plant you inevitably become addicted to the smell of the place. That and the noise. The scent of a new book takes you right back.
Thanks to Sam Rutter for the Beast link.