From behind their spines heartbeats are heard and from somewhere on the bottom shelf in the book in the room of discarded volumes unread sonnet whines to the deaf ears of a left volume of essays on philology, while on the upper shelf the biography of a rotten borough politician still preaches against your right to vote.
In the library, you may walk alone at night and listen to every obsolete word begging to be spelled, but mostly you will hear the cries from men who believed in vain they were of great importance.
You can listen to the desperate lament of perished poets; recitals of recipes for lethal potions from books of ancient medicine can be heard.
But as the aged librarian patrols his silent halls the voices mute. The books know well that in his mind their voices still can thrive, and maybe if they stay polite, the librarian will briefly stop and gently run his gentle fingers along their leatherbound spines to calm their hearts.
Today it’s Open Link night at dVerse and I wrote a little bit of prose poetry about the voices of all the books we keep. Have you ever hear the lament from books unread?
September 3, 2020
Very soulful, Björn
I see that he is a sensitive soul, and listens to their voices.
I love the descriptions of those books like a character in a life specially those from: cries from men who believed in vain they were of great importance. Great series with this Bjorn.
This is such a brilliant prose piece, Bjorn! ❤️ I love your “aged librarian,” series and this one is no exception. I have always wondered how books, those which have been read and those which aren’t feel 🙂
I am such a huge fan of the Librarian. Excellent.
Your aged librarian must \have studied at Hogwarts, where paintings come to life, and books take flight. One day you may have a whole volume of this series.
This is lovely: kind of like Toy Story, but for books – and they deserve it!
Hoorah, he’s back! I’ve missed your aged librarian, Björn. We are equidistant form two local market towns, which both have libraries: the big one is open and the smaller one isn’t. I’ve been in the small one when closed and have heard the voices and heartbeats of forgotten books. Take me to that unread sonnet! This is so reassuring: ‘the librarian will briefly stop and gently run his gentle fingers along their leatherbound spines to calm their hearts.’
Some sad and lonesome sounds coming from the library – love how you bring the books to life – this especially sets the personification tone
“From behind their spines heartbeats are heard “
Very powerful proser, BR. Nothing’s noisier than an empty library. Someone’s gotta be there.
❤ this and know it is written by a person who does it. I see parallels between books and trees. Ironic that books come from them.
Oh, I never thought of the library books that way! I could see this turning into a very scary story. Good thing your librarian is there!
I loved reading this. It makes me want to hide out after they turn out the lights and lock the door, just so I can listen.
I enjoy the aged librarian series, you make him come to life. I can see him running his fingers along their spines. Sent shivers of delight through me. I tell ya…
I love this SO MUCH!!!
I love your librarian series, and if anyone could hear the voices of the books, it would be him. Wonderful!
I love your librarian series. Maybe it is because of my lifelong dedication to teaching others (adults and children) how to read. Literacy is power and provides opportunities to carry us to places of the imagination.
The ending is a wow. It so speaks to me.
“The books know well that in his mind their voices still can thrive, and maybe if they stay polite, the librarian will briefly stop and gently run his gentle fingers along their leatherbound spines to calm their hearts.”
Very soulful and sensual, Bjorn — balm for the book lover’s soul. I love how the books politely await the gentle touch of the librarian to calm their hearts.
I can hear their lonely voices in your prose! Wonder what well-read book with loose spine would say?!