September comes every year with the end of the holidays (for those who have been able to enjoy them, of course), its collectibles, of all colors and sizes, and its cover books, for all of us who have school-age children. With the passing of the courses I must admit that I have perfected myself, and I also have what we could define solvency, in the task of covering books, which I continue to do in the traditional way. That is rolls (and rolls) of transparent plastic and adhesive tape (that old fixo). And the scissors, of course. And above all patience. Every year there are those who warn me that there are prefabricated cladding, reportedly very easy to use, which I continue to disdain. Not just for economics, even for a kind of melancholy, I admit. I am convinced that in a few years I will miss this task, which, to be honest, is not that unpleasant for me. For someone like me who likes to iron (and I don’t admit other people’s shirts), I don’t know if it’s stimulating, mechanical or the feeling of doing something useful with my hands, covering the books has a kind of conquest, a championship without rivals, and that’s why I celebrate each new specimen I cover with its plastic like that lion exhibiting its new capture in the savannah. Covering the books means above all that a new course is beginning, that the doors of the educational centers have reopened, which we must always continue to understand as a great novelty. What will come is there, what we will be, what we must become, the tomorrow that awaits us. Hence my absolute admiration and respect for teachers, to whom we give the most precious thing we have: our future. Although the image of hands in clay is already very mundane, that is why it is still true. A great responsibility falls on them, which up to now they have been able to solve effectively, even in the most complex moments, in the hardest part of the pandemic.
In those books that we cover, with more or less anger, and despite the content proposals of some, there are still censors around, there is something that should give meaning to our life every day: knowledge. And here there would be room for a thousand banal phrases, but all also true. Knowledge does not take up space, you have to learn something new every day, etc., etc. I can’t conceive of life without continuous learning, it’s the most powerful, most anti-arrogant and most refreshing feeling we can get. Look for fullness, that utopia, that fascinating journey that brings you knowledge and in which books play a decisive role. I cover books and think of the whole life that is hidden in its pages, life that is added to other lives.
Who knows a lot about the life of books and their second, third and fourth lives is Miguel Marzo, owner, reference, soul and something else of La Palabrería. He has just turned 8 a place unique in his concept, a temple and a tribute to books, and above all to their life. Used books by weight, give me half a kilo of Balzac and a quarter of Javier Marías, essential writer, which we lost too soon.
I admit it was very exciting to meet Miguel in his local in the Plaza de la Corredera market, where he stopped being an oddity to become someone and something habitual. Between his location, address and warehouse, there are more than 30,000 copies that he records. I told Miguel that a few months ago I was surprised by a colleague’s response, who didn’t understand that I enjoyed seeing some of my novels on second-hand tables. And of course, we are talking about the lives of the book, which can continue to be young and strong, exciting, among other hands and in front of new eyes. Something similar to the textbooks I am covering, each new course rejuvenates itself in the backpacks, on the way to schools. Fortunately, the heart that keeps them alive continues to beat, constant and serious, curious, in need of knowledge. We can continue to look to the future with hope and enthusiasm, it is no small thing.
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