
Paul is the youngest son and the bookworm in the family. He has a
football star father and three
older brothers‘ all obsessed if only moderately talented athletes vying for
the largely withheld approval of their college football star father, now the
local district court judge.’
‘ As an introverted teenager desperate to escape from the
rah-rah bell jar of Team Dukach, Paul had had one saving grace : Pages, the
rambling, heavily stocked bookstore housed in an old brick office building on
Hattersville’s run-down town square where he worked afternoons and Saturdays
all through high school. Morgan
Dickerman, Pages’ owner, was a
woman of kindess and discernment, statuesque if not conventionally pretty, with
prematurely graying hair; a long , elegant neck; and an assured stylishness
that stood out in Hattersville , which still felt stuck in the Eisenhower era.’
Galassi writes,
‘Morgan was an extremely canny bookseller who’d outsmarted the
chains by making Pages the heart and soul of the community in and around
Hattersville. She had local and visiting authors give readings weekly; she had
children’s hours on Saturdays; she was the den mother to a hundred book groups;
she supplied books for events at Hattersville State and Embryon, the local
private college. Besides , she was Morgan Dickerman, and people naturally
gravitated to her the way Paul had (he wasn’t self-deluding enough to believe
he was her only protégé , though he liked to flatter himself that he was still
Number One.) So Pages was still doing all right. But some of Morgan’s perhaps
less talented or less energetic colleagues were not faring nearly as well. The
chain store across the square had gone out of business, too, which ,
paradoxically, hadn’t helped matters at Pages.’
Pages sounds like a delightful bookstore to be spending Saturday afternoons . When I read Muse, I think of jazz, books and Venice.
Pages sounds like a delightful bookstore to be spending Saturday afternoons . When I read Muse, I think of jazz, books and Venice.
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