![\"colin-sargent-final-sm-preview-image\"](\"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/09\/Colin-Sargent-final-sm-preview-image.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
Sometimes the best part of a Maine fall is wintering in. Sheltered from the storms, I grew up cherishing the time-battered book collection of \u2018reader copies\u2019 in the living room of \u201cThe Black Pearl,\u201d our cottage built in the early 1920s on Gooch\u2019s Beach in Kennebunk. What a place to hunker down and devote some time with old friends.<\/p>\n
These are not pristine, uncracked 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.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n But look what\u2019s in there. The Guest of Quesnay <\/em>by Booth Tarkington, Northwest Passage<\/em> by Kenneth Roberts, and The Vehement Flame <\/em>by Margaret Deland, not to mention Deland\u2019s daring The Awakening of Helena Richie<\/em>. They\u2019re lovely, beloved wrecks, all dog-eared pages, light foxing, yellowed pages. You name it, these books have been \u2018devalued\u2019 by human touch.<\/span><\/p>\n Or have they? As C.S. Lewis writes, \u201cIt is a good rule after reading a new book, never to allow yourself another new one till you have read an old one in between.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n In The Devlin Diary<\/em>, Christi Phillips writes, \u201cAlthough 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\u2019s own heart and mind, to tell her what they knew, what they\u2019d learned, what they\u2019d seen, what they\u2019d felt. Wasn\u2019t that magic?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n One of my favorites in The Black Pearl\u2019s seashore library is The Dancing Floor<\/em>, by John Buchan. When I was a child, I asked my mother, Elsie Headlee Sargent, what it was about. She said, \u201cGhosts.\u201d I finally read it decades after losing her to cancer in 1976. She was with me on every page as I explored this wonderful \u2018reader\u2019 copy. I felt her hand turning every page.<\/span><\/p>\n Disintegration, mildew\u2013who knew the gracious slow destruction of books could be so seductive? Everywhere I turn, I see texture is making an astonishing comeback. As I write this, I feel all the books in The Black Pearl trying to force their way past me to get to you. Mirthful Haven<\/em>, Mary\u2019s Neck<\/em>, The Lively Lady<\/em>. They have a life of their own. They are not quiet or retiring. In fact, they love to be touched and lingered over.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n![\"Colin](\"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Colin-Signature-300x142.jpg\")
<\/p>\n\n