Last Thursday I made a visit to my local library. I had been on a website and had come across the opening paragraph of Herman Melville's classic novel 'Moby Dick'. Inspired by the prose of that small sample I decided to read the book in full and thus my afore mentioned visit.
I first searched for the book on the computer terminal in the hallway - well that is I would have had not the screen informed me that the search contained terms that were outside the library's 'acceptable use policy' - must have been the word dick I guess - so I proceeded to the desk where two women were buisily engaged, one with a magazine and the other with a mobile phone into which she was texting something of no-doubt national import. After a brief wait while it registered that someone was at the desk one of the women asked if she could help me. " I'd like a copy of 'Moby Dick' please" I said.
The woman tapped away at a keyboard, looked puzzled, tapped some more, clicked with a mouse a few times and then finally looked pleased. Turning to her workmate she said "Have you had trouble logging in today?" to which her friend replied in the affirmative. "Now, what was it you were after?" she said, returning to me, the complex problem of logging in having been resolved. "Dick", I replied (no I didn't - I just thought it was funny.) With some irritation now beginning to creep in I was perhaps a little sharper in my reply than normal. "Moby Dick". "Ah yes", she said and once more we began the tapping game. "How would Large Print be?", "Fine", "It's out on long loan - due back in October."
I breathed out through my nose and said slowly "Have you anything to hand; a small print version, even an audio one would be ok." She looked again. "It's not much in demand", she said apologetically, "I think you're out of luck". "Never mind - I'll just have to cast my net a little wider." She winked at me in a conspiratorial manner "Be carefull what you catch".  I was tempted to reply "Well, it won't be Moby Dick will it!", but refrained. My library is pretty centrally positioned so I thought I'd run over to a nearby large bookstore and buy one of those cheap 'Wordsworth' editions for a couple of quid that bookshops sell of out of copyright classics. On the way out of the library I noted that there were three copies of Katie Price's (aka ex page 3 model Jordan) latest ghost written novel (everything else about her is fake from her marriages to her t*t's - why should her novel be any different) with which I could console myself if I chose. Ariving at Waterstone's I went to the section where the cheap classics were normally kept only to discover that they were no longer stocking these cut-price ranges. I could still purchase the book in a glossy Penguin edition for £8.99 or a hardback copy for £17.99.  I turned away thwarted at the last. I would have to make do with what I could dig up at home. Perhaps Frank Frazetta's "Death-Dealer: Prisoner of the Horned Helmet" would be worth another read. Give me culture, but.........no - 'but' nothing! Give me culture full stop - I'm certainly not going to bloody well pay for it!