We were at an auction and my guy was intrigued by a book to be sold that day. It was written in 1812 and he found the verse to be lyrical.
My guy is an engineer and more often drawn to the practical or the scientific, than the lyrical. I was intrigued that he was so mesmerized by this huge, leather bound book. It had obviously been treasured by its readers for the last two centuries. So I went over and started reading the ancient words. They were indeed lyrical.
I wondered how long it took him to write this book of over 800 pages, 200 years ago, without the benefit of keyboard or spell check or one click Thesaurus. His prose had a lilt, an elegance. He expressed deep personal emotions as well as observations. He used such colorful descriptions of every day events or objects that they seemed to take on new prisms of meaning or lead to concepts newly conceived.
I have rarely seen my guy so excited about an auction item. When it came time to bid, he did so carefully and often. And at the end, he was the proud new owner of that book.
It’s about half read now and it’s a joy to see my practical engineer creep off into a quiet, well lit corner with his great big book, to enjoy his lyrical journey to the place where fantasy collides with reality.