29
Oct
08

D’il Mio Libro Piccolo: Flat Worms

I made it a goal this year abroad to read as many classics or important books as I can. Majoring in English, I somehow still did not manage to get them all done in 4 years – a fact that actually surprises a lot of people. No, I have many, many more to go; the hard part is deciding where to start.

Luckily, it turns out that Amsterdam will decide for me. There is some sort of tax on books here from what I’ve heard, so the merchandise in the many English book stores is a bit out of my price range for regular purchases. They’re great stores, particularly the American Book Center, so I have to be careful not to get carried away and spend an entire week’s pay in one visit – maybe I’ll just treat myself on special occasions.

Fortunately, one Friday afternoon last month after spending a couple of wistful hours in the ABC, I stumbled upon the outdoor Boekenmarkt in the Spui, a weekly used and antique book market in one of the city’s squares that apparently only plays hooky during gale-force winds. It isn’t a huge market, but being full of books I could spend hours there even if I went every week – and most of the books aren’t even in English. There is one booth, to my delight, with a small but sufficient assortment of books that I can both read and afford to buy often.

The selection of classics is limited, which is perfect because it greatly reduces the decision-making process. It’s just an added bonus that most of them are cool old editions under 5 euros, and I get to spend the afternoon surrounded by books and people who love them.

My first choice was Cannery Row, a Steinbeck favorite that I’ve had on my list for some time. It’s a short, easy read and the setting and characters are instantly appealing. I’d suggest that anyone who struggled with The Grapes of Wrath at the age of 16 give this one a try. It draws you in immediately and won’t disappoint.

It’s one of those books that I knew I would enjoy with the first sentence: “Cannery Row in Monterey in California is a poem, a stink, a grating noise, a quality of light, a tone, a habit, a nostalgia, a dream.” Such a random assortment of things that it somehow makes clear and perfect sense. Especially as the book goes on.

What I really love and feel can be applied to life and literature in many ways is what he offers at the end of his short opening:

“How can the poem and the stink and the grating noise – the quality of light, the tone, the habit and the dream – be set down alive? When you collect marine animals there are certain flat worms so delicate that they are almost impossible to capture whole, for they break and tatter under the touch. You must let them ooze and crawl of their own will onto a knife blade and then lift them gently into your bottle of sea water. And perhaps that might be the way to write this book – to open the page and to let the stories crawl in by themselves.”

To see the capturing of flat worms, a small and obscure project to say the least, as this great metaphor for the way stories are told and lives are lived – this is why we should read his books. And why I’m glad the Boekenmarkt placed this one front of me.

The flat worms remind me somewhat of my time in Amsterdam thus far. It’s certainly different than my last experience abroad – a shorter length of time in which I had a built-in social network of students and I did nothing but sight-see and travel and learn about the culture the entire time. Here I am mostly alone aside from the family and scattered random social engagements, I work 35 hours a week, and I have less money to spend on travel. I struggle with the fact that I am living here, that I can’t be doing and seeing and going to museums every second because I have some serious assimilating to do.

It’s like the window in the corner of my bedroom that leaks when it rains. I can’t hear any drips, but when I wake up in the morning or come upstairs at the end of the day – having battled the rain outside or listened to it falling on the rooftop as I fell asleep – there is always a little puddle there.

I don’t realize how much I’m doing or learning or adjusting to here until I step back and really look at it. Without noticing I’ve situated myself over the last 2 months into this city and into a new life abroad. I showed up on September 5, and since then the experiences and transformations just started to ooze, crawl and leak into my life on their own.

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4 Responses to “D’il Mio Libro Piccolo: Flat Worms”


  1. October 29, 2008 at 3:53 pm

    Just this very morning I was listening to Aaron Copland’s “The Red Pony,” written for the film and was remembering how much I hated both reading that book and watching the film in middle school. I also hated reading “The Pearl” and “The Grapes of Wrath,” but have often thought I should give Steinbeck a second chance as a mature adult. I certainly enjoyed your libro piccolo passage, and the metaphor for your new life abroad and for all of our lives…

  2. 2 Sara
    October 29, 2008 at 8:07 pm

    I am in desperate need of your help. We’re coming up for a new tagline for CVOC and I know if we were sitting in A8 or chatting over coffee we could come up with something brilliant. BLAST!
    But yes, you do have a way with creating parallels… is that correct? Between the book and life. I’m not sure if that qualifies as a paralell but you catch my drift.

  3. 3 trav
    October 30, 2008 at 8:26 pm

    shan,

    this post made me happy. i re-read cannery row for my 4th time this summer, it’s one my favorite summer reads, and it is indeed the gift that keeps on giving. next to morrison, steinbeck is absolutely my most favorite author to re-read and, therefore, is one of my favorite authors. i can never get sick of is style or perfect (at least in my view) rhetoric. beautiful.

    anyhow, i think this is the first time i’ve posted on here but i read often, and i love and miss you. here’s to more experiences oozing and crawling into your life abroad!

    love,
    trav

  4. 4 Barbara
    October 31, 2008 at 11:43 pm

    I guess I’ll have to finally read it, too! There are just so many wonderful things to read in the world, aren’t there?


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