It is much more than that

La Librairie Antique

Today, let’s try to explain or understand what a book is, by sharing a dream.

It is not merely an object—or if it is, it is a living object, steeped in history and myth, destined to outlive its author, its owner, and its era.

Some wait and wait a long time before treating themselves to a book; they savour the anticipation, and one day they act. They may then take their time before reading it—or perhaps never do. Always delighting in possession, they postpone the enjoyment, much like one would with a fine wine that improves with age. These admirers must earn the privilege, initiate themselves into its mysteries. And this begins with the hunt, through to its preservation, passing by unkept promises, sacrifices, lost bids, not to mention the burden of choice.

Imagine the thrill of a numbered edition, the feeling of privilege; a signed binding, the inspiration; a dedication from your master, the prestige!

A dream, a realm of imagination, a universe far beyond mere necessity—that is the book.

This legacy of paper—what a synesthetic experience!

Sight, first of all; the book is so symbolic. Touch, consider its sensuality. Scent, it retains the fragrance of a cigar smoker, the perfume of a beauty. The music of pages being turned. And taste—but alas, for the mice.

Finally, accessible luxury! But it demands the right education, good taste to appreciate it, curiosity, patience—in short, all that money cannot buy.

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