Tea in the Library Read Online Free Page B

(provided there is an English language version, of course), and try to absorb the local viewpoint of whatever is going on in the world, as well as those curious little details of happenings that define a community.
    One of my Literature courses concerned medieval writing — mostly Chaucer. Our lecturer was a Chaucer tragic. He wore his hair in a thick bowl-style cut, medieval fashion, and had thick metal amulets around his wrists. I can’t recall if he dressed in a tunic, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He read medieval Chaucer absolutely beautifully. His rendition of “The Wife Of Bath’s Tale”, complete with Olde English accent, was unforgettable:

    This knyght, of which my tale is specially, 
    Whan that he saugh he myghte nat come therby, 
    This is to seye, what women love moost, 
    Withinne his brest ful sorweful was the goost …

    But for the Law course, the reading was of a completely different order. In those pre-internet days, we purchased texts three inches thick for every course, and they were the abridged readings. They were very expensive, and became outdated within a mere year or two, and so were usually unsaleable second-hand. We spent hours in the Law Library, learning to research, and learning that in the cases you could find clues, and sometimes actual answers, to how things were. Or might be. Law is more an art than a science.
    All this reading eventually turned me into one of those people who always carry a book around with them, and I get a little twitchy if I have to wait at an airport or railway station without reading material. In the years I have been traveling alone for business I have perfected the art of eating alone in restaurants, trusty book in hand. In fact, I think I am getting to the stage where I prefer a book to company! When I am eating alone and reading, I usually ask for a table with the best light, and read between courses. The ultimate restaurant reading accolade must here go to Raffles Grill in Singapore — when I opened my novel (Alexander McCall Smith’s latest, if you’re interested), the maitre d’ came over with a small reading light which he affixed to my novel. Thus instantly becoming the World’s Best Restaurant, in my book.

Chapter Four

    The joy of research
    Visiting bookshops has been a pleasure of mine for as long as I can remember. Birchall’s Bookshop in Launceston (still thriving) was a particular Aladdin’s Cave of treasures, especially its then upstairs section. Launceston also enjoyed several other excellent bookshops. I recall visiting one that carried wonderful art books with a fellow high school art student, and drooling over the gorgeous publications. We couldn’t afford to actually purchase, and were green with envy when our art teacher walked out with three or four lovely books under his arm. Beautiful books were one of the first luxuries we planned on buying as soon as we “had money”.
    Having decided that I was a putative bookshop owner, I had an excellent excuse to visit many more bookshops, in the interests of research. In fact, thinking about exactly how a bookshop was run made me look at my favourite shops with new eyes. For starters, I really hadn’t stopped to consider before that in any bookshop,  someone had made a conscious decision to choose each and every title. That’s a lot of decisions.
    I started by visiting Sydney city bookshops, some of which I knew and loved and others that were new to me, and began observing closely. How did they run their business? What was attractive to me and what was not? What kind of titles did they carry? What was the ambiance like? Inevitably, I found a book or two to buy. I compared pricing, saved bags and bookmarks, picked up flyers about events and special offers, and kept careful notes.
    The premier independent bookshop in Sydney, for me, was indisputably Abbeys, a Sydney institution for many decades. Their selection