The Literary Choices That Can Touch the Soul
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After a long hiatus, I decided to spend my lunch hour at the Barnes & Noble bookstore in Georgetown and catch up on some periodical reading. I carefully picked out a batch of magazines along with a book or two and ascended the escalator toward the large, overstuffed chairs that had made that store so pleasant.
To my dismay, I discovered that those plushy chairs were no longer there.
The management apparently had adopted a policy of making the reading public a little bit less comfortable. I can't say that I blame them, since some of their readers seemed to settle into their settees for the day.
As a matter of fact, the last time I was there, the coveted chaise next to mine was vacated and a well-scrubbed, tidy, middle-aged "bag lady" with an equally tidy, well-packed shopping cart promptly took possession of it.
She parked some of her belongings there to "dibs" it and then disappeared into the stacks.
When she reappeared. she had a large collection of coffee table books with her. I'd never considered the reading tastes of the homeless before, and I became very curious about what the subject matter would be. Perhaps how-to books on camping, self-defense or finding a job? Maybe self-help books on dealing with mental illness or personal finance? Possibly treatises on housing policy or unemployment?
I discreetly peeked over my book to see what her actual literary choices were. Her titles were all beautiful, glossy volumes and all about wedding dresses and pastries. She slowly pored over scores of pictures of frilly crinoline gowns with her fingers seemingly trying to stroke the expensive material. She then stared at page after page of puffy, layered confections while running her tongue over her lips as if trying to imagine their delicate sweetness.
Had this woman been a jilted bride years ago and thereby been launched into her current trajectory? Had she been a caterer, a pastry chef, a seamstress, a designer or a wedding planner who come on hard times?
Whatever it was, it was utterly heartbreaking to watch. I packed up my books and quietly slunk away, embarrassed by too great a surreptitious glance into another's soul.
Maybe that's why they got rid of those chairs.
-- Dan Wittenberg, Bethesda
