The Abortion: an historical romance 1966 - by Richard Brautigan

Earlier this year I posted a link to a list of 100 Must-Read Books about Libraries and Bookstores which included Brautigan's The Abortion. When I discovered that the Brautigan Library of Unpublished Manuscripts is a real place, and featured in Atlas Obscura I immediately requested the book from Inter-library loan. It is a rather quick read, and as the title suggests, it is a love story. The unnamed narrator is the librarian at this unusual library where people can drop off their unpublished works at any time of the day or night. The

library came into being because of an overwhelming need and desire for such a place. There just had to be a library like this. The desire brought into existence this library building which isn't very large...

The narrator lives in the library and never leaves the building, as he must always stay at his post in case someone rings the bell requesting a drop off. Authors and their books are listed in the Library Contents Ledger, and then authors are invited to place their book on any shelf they "fancy".

It doesn't matter where the book is placed because nobody ever checks them out and nobody ever comes here to read them. 

The narrator is not without company. His girlfriend, Vida, often stays with him at night. It is through this arrangement that Vida finds herself pregnant and begins to make plans for an abortion in Mexico, and the narrator prepares to leave the library for the first time since he took the job several years before in order to accompany her. He must find someone to watch the library, get several hundred dollars, make travel plans to fly to the border, make a hotel reservation, make a doctor's appointment, and return plans. All of which he does rather easily with the help of Foster, who had once made similar arrangements for a lady friend.

I have to admit that I was a bit jealous of the librarian in the story, who as Vida jokes, lives a hermit's life. Those who know me well know that I someday aspire to become a hermit. It seems that our narrator has the best of several worlds. He gets to be a hermit, and be a librarian, and have company when he wants. He does, however, return to the library after his excursion with Vida to an unexpected surprise.

A surreal read.

Avenue of Mysteries - by John Irving

John Irving is still going strong. In his most recent work he tells the story of Juan Diego Guerrero, a writer who grew up as a "pepenador" (scavenger) in the slums of Oaxaca, Mexico. Juan Diego had an advantage over the other children who lived picking things from the dump - he knew how to read (in Spanish and English). He was also the only person who could understand his clairvoyant sister's (Lupe's) unique language. Ultimately he ends up living in Iowa with his new guardians - a gay priest (Edward Bonshaw) and his transgender lover (Flor). 

Since Juan Diego is such a good reader it seems especially appropriate that when he his taken in by the Jesuits at Niños Perdidos (Lost Children) that he and Lupe sleep in what had "formerly been a small library" with most of the books still on the shelves. It is ironic, then, that it is on the Jesuits' shelves that Juan Diego reads about science and history which makes him question the teachings of the church, and what ultimately inspired him to become an author, despite the fact that 

the library of English-language literature at Lost Children was limited and generally not newer than the nineteenth-century models of the form, including the novels Father Alfonso and Father Octavio had designated for destruction in the hellfires of the basurero and those essential novels Brother Pepe or Edward Bonshaw had saved for the library's small collection of fiction

Fires at the dump (basurero) were perpetual, and Juan Diego, a lover of reading, often saved books from the inferno. "It takes an eternity to read some books, even (or especially) some books saved from burning."

Reading aloud with Bonshaw in the Niños Perdidos library is one way that the two develop a kinship. They argued about the age-appropriateness of some books, and Bonshaw's censorship of sex scenes. Flor, however, did not read. This she tells to an AIDS-ravaged Mennonite in cowboy boots and and a pink cowboy hat as the two wait for treatment at the Virology Clinic in Iowa City. She jokes that the two should rob a bank to which the cowboy responds "I know North Liberty pretty well...There's a library that sure would be easy to knock off." Flor explains that she doesn't read, and is, therefore, "not interested in sticking up a library".

Of course, any library user can tell you that there is no need to "stick up" a library. All you need is a (free!) library card and you can have anything you want!

The Distance Between Us - by Reyna Grande

As in Jeanette Winterson's Why be Happy when You Could be Normal the author of this memoir finds salvation from her dysfunctional family in books, reading, and, the library.

Reyna Grande was born in the town of Iguala, Mexico. She and her siblings are left in the care of her paternal grandmother when her parents cross the border to make their way on "el Otro Lado". Fascinated by stories that there is no poverty in the United States, and mistreated by her grandmother, Reyna longs to be reunited with her parents. When her mother finally returns it is with the news that the children's father has a new wife on "el Otro Lado" and they will be staying in Iguala. Years later, her father returns and illegally crosses the border with three of his four children, including Reyna. While she recognizes the one-bedroom apartment she now shares with her father, stepmother, brother and sister is the nicest place she has ever lived, and appreciates the educational opportunities she receives at her new school, she is at the same time disillusioned by life with her abusive, alcoholic father, whom she did not know at all before the crossing. Painfully shy, and embarrassed by her heavy accent, Reyna discovers solace in reading.

Over the last year, I had become addicted to reading, in part because I was not good at making friends. I shied away from kids because there was always something for which they could make fun of me: my ridiculous name, my height, my Payless tennis shoes, my thick accent, the unfashionable clothes I would wear...

Every Friday before heading home, I would stop at Arroyo Seco Library for books. The maximum I was allowed to borrow was ten, and I would read them all during the week.

As a young girl Reyna is drawn to the Sweet Valley High series, and V.C. Andrews books, but as a college student her mentor exposes her to Latino literature for the first time, and also gives her the first book she can keep, and Reyna realizes that she may also have what it takes to become a writer.

This is a wonderfully written, painfully honest, and inspirational book.