Standing in front of a long row of weather-beaten books, Tim Bowling reaches over and grabs an old blue tome. We are at the University of Alberta’s Rutherford Library.
He tells me that the library is slowly replacing some of its collection with eBooks.
Bowling flips the book open and starts examining the first few pages, where an inscription from the author is handwritten in pencil: “To that real book woman Veronica Cooley.”
He looks up and says, “You know a computer is not going to give you that.”
Bowling is an award-winning poet and author. In May, he finished a one-year stint as the University of Alberta’s writer-in-residence. He’s also a book collector. For him, finding an inscription, a signature or even annotations in the margin of a book is one of the reasons he loves collecting them. “When you are talking about what is more magical about books than, say, text on a screen, is that books have that living history in them. Whether it’s something as mundane as a peanut-butter stain or whatever it is. There is such a human element in an actual material book.”
Books that are immaterial, the ones that you download onto e-reader or a computer, are becoming more and more common. Sales in Canada of e-books are climbing. Bowling worries that the change could take all the romance out of discovering a random book on the shelf. “It’s a big shame,” he says, eyeing the bookshelf. “Bookstores are disappearing, especially used book stores because everything is going online. You don’t have that powerful sense of serendipity.”
Bowling’s latest book, In the Suicide’s Library: A Book Lover’s Journey, based on his adventure through American literature, fatherhood and bibliomania, was sparked by the discovery of a book of poems by Wallace Stevens at the Rutherford Library.
“I picked a book up and just flipped it open,” he says, grabbing another book from the shelves and turning the page. “And right there, as clean a page as that, but a book that is like 70 years old, was a gorgeous signature.”