I wanted to write a little something about how books smell. I love the smell of books. The other day, though, I noticed that books have different scents depending on where you get them.
Here in London I get my books from five places: new books from Waterstone’s, new books from Tesco (supermarket), new Christian books from the church bookshop, used books from Oxfam (charity shop), borrowed books from the library, and my own old books from our bookshelves in the bottom of Brian’s wardrobe.
New books from Waterstone’s have a lovely new bookish smell. It’s the most pure papery book smell of all. If it were socially acceptable I might just go in there to sniff the books (though I never actually thought that before writing it). The Waterstone’s smell reminds me of Brentano’s in the Fair Oaks Mall in Fairfax, Virginia where I worked just after graduating from university. (I just googled it and it now appears to be a Border Express.) I enjoyed that job, though I was only there a couple months before moving back to Missouri. The best bit was that not only did I get a discount (1/3 off or something like that) but I could also borrow books to read as long as I kept them in good condition. They liked the staff to be well-read. I still spent way too much of my meager paycheck on books–it was just too tempting when I was surrounded by them every day. I loved setting up displays and sorting through the books. What I didn’t love was selling porn mags, though I didn’t have to do to much of that (had to do a lot more of that at the Super Crown I also worked at briefly). Anyway, the smell of new bookstore books reminds me of that time in my life, in addition to the normal great feelings I get from new book smell.
Now new books from Tesco have a different smell. Well, they smell sort of like they’ve been in the supermarket. Not very exciting, but true.The one I got the other day also smells slightly of cigarettes. Not sure what that is about. I guess that’s why I seldom buy books at the supermarket (plus there’s not much selection).
And would you believe that books from a church bookshop actually smell a bit Christian? I can’t describe it, but they smell a bit like church–maybe from being in close proximity to Bibles all the time. Don’t even get me started on the genre of Bible smells–that’s a whole other subject.
Books from Oxfam have a nice used book smell, but sometimes overlaid with a sort of weird body odor as well–I think it depends on how long they’ve been sitting on the shelf waiting to be sold for £1.99 or even as cheaply as 99p. It’s this less pleasant smell that keeps me from buying more Oxfam books (that and the randomness of good book availability). I do my part by donating some of my books there when I’m done with them.
Library books are not far from Oxfam smell-wise, though they tend to have a little more age smell and a little less body odor. I am commenting on this from memory, though, as the only library books I have out right now are travel books on Poland and Italy. Travel books have their own unique smell–they often smell like magazines because they use that sort of paper). Also, just a thought–books from secondhand bookshops (which I don’t frequent here, but did in the U.S.) have a smell that’s sort of a cross between library books and my own books.
Now to the very best book smell–the smell of my own books from our bookshelves. I have here my favorite novel, The Once and Future King by T.H. White and it smells wonderful. This smell is nostalgic of the way books smell
ed in our house growing up. My mom has always had loads of books here, there, and everywhere. I don’t even know how to describe the smell–old and dusty, but beautiful. Sniffing this book almost brings a tear to my eye. Now I sound like a freak, but it’s just such a great feeling–this book has been like a friend to me. I think maybe it’s time for a re-read. It smells like some of my other well-loved books–The Lord of the Rings trilogy, the Chronicles of Narnia, Edward Rutherford’s London novel, The Unlikely Ones by Mary Brown, and of course Pride and Prejudice (could go and on but won’t).
I wonder if I am just being silly or if I could actually identify a book’s origin blindfolded in a smell test. I think I could at least definitely pick the old ones from our own bookshelves, though some of the other smells are less distinct. Maybe some day I’ll try that, but perhaps for now that’s a little too geeky even for me.
