Read Between the Lines

Dramaturg Sarah McAfee cracks into the romantic literary wonderland of Michael & Edie.

“Franny was staring at the little blotch of sunshine with a special intensity, as if she were considering lying down in it.”

― J.D. Salinger, Franny and Zooey

I love the smell of books.  Even more the smell of old books.  And, in particular, the books that I have from my grandmother’s house.  In addition to the vaguely vanilla and marzipan overtones lurks a piney, smoky remnant from where the books lived in the built-in bookshelves over the fireplace.  They remind me of home. 

Some stories are so deeply familiar to us, that scanning the curve of their letters evokes a world so vivid, a journey so encompassing that we can smell the tension of every twist and the release of every revelation.  They are old friends, with whom we reacquaint ourselves over coffee on a rainy afternoon, recalling the pathways and crossroads we traversed with their heroes.

In centering the journeys of Michael and Edie between the shelves of a used bookstore, Rachel Bonds evokes the creaky, dusty familiarity that the old tomes represent.  The location itself becomes a malleable character, a shelf to be rearranged and highlight the best and most interesting volumes.  The bookstore becomes a haven, a blotch of sunlight for these characters to ride out the tempest beyond the door.