Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 Page 85 Page 86 Page 87 Page 88 Page 89 Page 90 Page 91 Page 92 Page 93 Page 94 Page 95 Page 96 Page 97 Page 98 Page 99 Page 100Featuring original works of fine art, photography and limited-edition prints by regional and local artists. 372 Fore Street Portland, Maine 04101 (207) 874-8084 www.forestreetgallery.com Wharf Street, Winter, 1986 24" x 36" Oil on canvas, by Paul Black Featuring original works of fine art, photography and limited-edition prints by regional and local artists. 372 Fore Street Portland, Maine 04101 (207) 874-8084 www.forestreetgallery.com Monhegan Morning Paul Black 11 x 14 oil Where Recycling has Always been in Style forgetmenotsfalmouth.com Forget Me Nots Now located at The Shops at Falmouth Village, 240 U.S. Route 1 Now accepting seasonal clothing and accessories Editorial Colin W. Sargent, Editor & Publisher 6 p o r t l a n d monthly magazine Reader Copies S ometimes the best part of a Maine fall is wintering in. Sheltered from the storms, I grew up cherishing the time-battered book collection of ‘reader cop- ies’ in the living room of “The Black Pearl,” our cottage built in the early 1920s on Gooch’s Beach in Kennebunk. What a place to hunker down and de- vote some time with old friends. These are not pristine, un- cracked volumes on our shelves tucked lovingly to the left of the crackling fireplace. Few of our books have their dust jackets, further reducing their monetary worth. But look what’s in there. The Guest of Quesnay by Booth Tarkington, Northwest Passage by Kenneth Roberts, and The Vehement Flame by Margaret Deland, not to mention Deland’s daring The Awakening of Helena Richie. They’re lovely, beloved wrecks, all dog-eared pages, light foxing, yellowed pages. You name it, these books have been ‘devalued’ by human touch. Or have they? As C.S. Lewis writes, “It is a good rule after reading a new book, never to al- low yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.” In The Devlin Diary, Christi Phillips writes, “Although she was a logical, practical person, she believed that in books there existed a kind of magic. Between the aging covers on these shelves, contained in tiny, abstract black marks on sheets of paper, were voices from the past. Voices that reached into the future, into Claire’s own heart and mind, to tell her what they knew, what they’d learned, what they’d seen, what they’d felt. Wasn’t that magic?” One of my favorites in The Black Pearl’s seashore library is The Dancing Floor, by John Bu- chan. When I was a child, I asked my mother, Elsie Headlee Sargent, what it was about. She said, “Ghosts.” I finally read it decades after losing her to cancer in 1976. She was with me on every page as I explored this won- derful ‘reader’ copy. I felt her hand turning every page. Disintegration, mildew–who knew the gracious slow destruc- tion of books could be so seduc- tive? Everywhere I turn, I see tex- ture is making an astonishing comeback. As I write this, I feel all the books in The Black Pearl try- ing to force their way past me to get to you. Mirthful Haven, Mary’s Neck, The Lively Lady. They have a life of their own. They are not qui- et or retiring. In fact, they love to be touched and lingered over.