So I am told over lunch that I shared with my Grupo Reposo friends. Every year I have rented a stall there. Last year it was to clear out my china closet and my bookshelves. I think I had the most sales last year. This year I was just prepared to sell my books. I have far too many books. There was a time when I was rich, I would go to the bookstore every weekend and buy them. Or I would order them from Amazon. I love books and loved to read. I used them to entertain myself, to fall asleep with, as references for my writing and painting, as ways to improve myself. Then I got attached to them and kept them forever on my bookshelf where some of them got wet during a storm and most of them got dusty and old but still good. Nothing a good vacuum cleaner will not fix.
Anyway, this year I just sold books. P30 each for the local books, P50 each for the foreign pocketbooks, P100 each for hard-cover American books, P20 for the classics I had a difficult time parting with and P1,000 each for the big, expensive coffee table books. Two tables away there was a group that sold books for P20 each. I was dismayed but they were no match to the quality of my books.
There was a young mother who bought three books one day, and came back the next for more. She said she had read them all and liked them all. Some of my books are covered in fancy wrapping paper that someone gave me from the Metropolitan Museum of New York many, many years ago. One idle weekend, I decided to cover my books with it. I love covering books. It’s an activity I’ve missed since my children grew up. So I just covered my own books with fancy wrapping paper, plain leftover Christmas or birthday paper, or sheets of ordinary bond or math paper.
Some of the young people who came by were distressing. First, the way they were dressed. Then, their values. One young girl who seemed to want to position herself as smart looked at F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby. Then she murmured to the young man she was with. Then she turned to me to ask if it had been made into a movie. "Yes," I said. "It starred Mia Farrow as Daisy Buchanan and Robert Redford as Gatsby." I could tell from the blankness on her face that neither name meant anything. "I like to see the movie first," she said with a tone of finality. Why you ignorant little girl, I thought. This is one of my most precious books. Maybe you just don’t have the money to buy this beautiful book.
Otherwise, I had a great but tiring time. It took maid-less me two whole days to prepare for my stint at the Reposo fair. Then my driver and I set it up. I watched and sold at the stall unless I was going off with my friends, then my driver would pick up the slack. Fortunately on Saturday, Liza, with whom I work, came in to watch over the stall while I went home to teach. On Sunday afternoon, I disappeared for a while to have a beer with Linda, who came over from her nearby house to visit me.
At the fair there were many lovely things on sale. A French artist was selling plates he had done himself. The antique shop was selling antiques. There was a store of handmade pottery. There were earrings and necklaces. Beth Mikhallier had an organics set up beside mine. She gave me a foot spa to eliminate my toxins, which were totally disgusting – muddy and boiling like coffee with grinds. I will see her for more stuff later. Shoes, a charming pair of fuchsia boots with gold lightning. I would have wanted those but I don’t wear anything but slippers and sandals anymore.
The difference between the old me and the young me is the money spent on things. There is an age where you spend more. I think it might be from 30 to around 55. Then something happens. You wake up, look at all the things you have gathered over the years and you want to be rid of them. So you sell them to total strangers. Maybe at the Reposo fair. I think I’m the only one selling second-hand stuff there.
Anyway, I have sold half of my books. The John Updikes, John O’Haras, Vladimir Nabokovs, nobody paid any attention to. I suppose I am meant to keep them. Every afternoon I packed up before six and went home thoroughly exhausted. I was in bed by eight to be up early the next day. Now I am rested. Now I can say the weekend at Reposo was worth it more for the fun than for the money. But it was worth it.
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