So my friend made me being her kindle, to stop this from happening, but no one can stop me. These are the books I’ve acquired so far:
My friend had told me about these old phone boxes in Germany that had been converted into public bookshelves. On a day when the spontaneity of my trip had resulted in the 3 towns I wanted to visit being booked out, I was wandering through Cologne, when I stumbled upon one. I intended to send the Dickens to her (but I can’t afford the postage haha) and the other one was part of my grand intention to improve my German.
This was the guide book for my hike! It basically talks about all the wild animals and flowers I should have seen, but all I saw was slugs, snails and rain.
I bought this on my first night in berlin from a comic book store. I had been to this store on my first trip to Berlin and spent a lovely day reading a book from there in the park (see this post http://thetipofthetongue.tumblr.com/post/14914506581/im-just-going-to-talk-about-books-for-ages-so) This one I read on the train between Berlin and Warsaw and it really made me think a lot about this common interaction of “you should go to Auschwitz” or “have you been to Auschwitz yet?”
This was from Berlin as well. My friend once let me read a letter her aunt had written to her, which included a series of book recommendations. This was one of them. The store was called Shakespeare and Sons and I had been to one of their stores in Czechsky Krumlov and been thoroughly impressed by their amazing selection of translated local books. I was equally impressed by the selection here of books relating to Berlin.
I got this at the Jewish museum in Warsaw, which is yet to be fully opened. I’ve only read the introduction and the first few stories so far, but I think it’s fascinating the way in which the collator presents how insufficient western literature is at responding to the holocaust, as it traditionally focuses on the suffering of the individual.
The last one I picked up today in Krakow, in what I can only describe as my dream store. Two Danish girls in my hostel had told me about it and I ran into them again there. Coffee, cake, dark wood, armchairs and rooms and rooms of floor to ceiling bookshelves. I had been trying to find a copy of something by Heschel ever since I read a passage which described the way in which we should live without indifference but instead radical wonder of the world, which is a sentiment that just resonates so well with me.