My copy of The Great Gatsby has served me well over the years. I’ve read it a few times, lent it out to people, highlighted passages, and folded down pages. It’s not pretty, but I’ve loved having it on my shelf.
But despite the love I have for my original copy, I just couldn’t resist buying this beautiful leather-bound edition when I saw it at the store.
The only problem I’m having with my new, luxurious edition is that I’m kind of afraid I’ll mess it up. My original copy looks like I put it through the washing machine, so I don’t mind letting people borrow it or throwing it at the bottom of my bag along with a banana and about five different lip balms. But I can’t do that with my new edition. It’s too pretty. It’s like the room in the house with fancy furniture that no one sits on, or the soaps in the bathroom that you can’t use because they’re only for guests.
What’s the point?
Maybe I’ll just keep my old copy. They can live side-by-side on the shelf, the new and the old. One for admiring, one for reading.
Is that weird? Probably. But if having two copies of an amazing book is wrong, then maybe I don’t want to be right.