Written by: Michaela Dimick
For years my hobby has been collecting. Growing up, I collected paper dolls and stuffed animals, which transitioned into yarn (my friends might tell you I collect it more than I use it) and notebooks (which were also doomed to be collected more than used). Many times these collections overlapped, leading my room to become a cataclysm of disparate and varied interests. My mother eventually begged me to commit to one collection, so, naturally, I picked the most expensive one: books.
As a child, I was a voracious reader. The second that I didn’t have any pressing responsibilities (and when I wanted to procrastinate), I could be found with my nose in a book. I was enraptured by vivid details of places that I longed to visit; chief among them were Europe’s impressively old castles and manor houses. Before long, I fell in love with one book in particular. California’s oppressively hot summers always made me long for moody, rainy days, and the Gothic novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë had just the atmosphere that I was aching for.
Set in Northern England, the book follows Jane Eyre as she searches for a home and family. She finds a position as a governess at the striking but slightly worn down Thornfield Hall, where she meets the brooding and mysterious Mr. Rochester. They are drawn to each other romantically, but Rochester’s mysterious past always gets in the way. Despite a raving madwoman living (both metaphorically and physically) in Rochester’s attic, the bond between Jane and Mr. Rochester is strengthened to a degree that you have to read about to get the full story.
It quickly became my favorite story; I have read it more times than I can count. I could visit Thornfield anytime I wanted, and I did regularly. The little abridged children’s copy I owned started to wear thin with rereads. Eventually, the time came to purchase another edition, but acquiring a new copy would be a challenge because I did not have a driver’s license, nor did my family routinely purchase items online.
The solution came in the form of a trip to Washington when, visiting Walla Walla University, I was shopping for colleges. One evening, we had the opportunity to go into town, and I found myself standing in front of a charming little bookstore. I, of course, entered with the goal of finding my new copy of Jane Eyre, an unabridged “big girl” edition. And, Reader, did I find it. With a beautiful violet leatherette cover and a copper-embossed title, the book took my breath away. It came home with me and was a beautiful addition to my growing bookshelf.
The book became more than just a copy of my favorite novel; it also functioned as a souvenir. I don’t need to add to my ever-growing list of books to read; instead, I collect various editions of Jane Eyre in whatever location I am visiting. I like to look in used bookstores whenever I can, because I like that the book had a life before me (and, usually, is more affordable). I also find that used bookstores can pull me away from perfectly manicured tourist traps into the real heart of a city. The great thing about collecting a classic is that new editions are always coming out, and fabulous older editions are available, too, so I can always find a new-to-me edition. All in all, I have 20 copies of Jane Eyre. Each is unique; all are special to me.Collecting books is not for everybody, but I recommend finding something that you’re passionate about and starting a collection. There’s something valuable about collecting physical items — it’s a tangible representation of a part of yourself. Introduce a splash of color into your life with a collection!