As anyone who knows me well enough to read this blog probably knows, I love bookstores. In my perfect imaginary world, I would spend two or three nights a week curled up on an easy chair at Borders with cocoa and a new book (and somehow magically not feel guilty about exploiting a commercial establishment with my loitering, merchandise-using, freeloading ways). There is, however, one trip to the bookstore that I generally dread - the one that heralds in the beginning of each new semester. Spending seven hundred dollars on books is my idea of heaven, except when that seven hundred dollars only buys four dense casebooks and their statutory supplements on such enthralling matters as Partnerships, Corporations, and Other Business Associations.
This semester I was able to buy my Federal Tax Law casebook online (saving $70), because the professor kindly informed us of the ISBN for the required text over a week ago. I hadn't heard anything about the other books, though, and deciding that there weren't enough days left to order the books online and have them shipped in time to safely be able to complete my reading assignments before Monday's classes, I headed to the bookstore, warily armed with my credit card and expecting the worst.
I quickly located the section with the law school textbooks (the wall is very easy to spot - laden with hundreds of hard cover casebooks [all around 1500 pages and uniformly bound in impressive shades of blue, red, and black with gold lettering] a quiet shopper can hear those unlucky shelves moaning and lamenting their fate like the damned souls in the Divine Comedy). I began looking through the tags on the shelves, indicating the various classes: Not-For-Profit Organizations, Administrative Law, Federal Courts... After a few minutes, I came across paper-bound books with pictures on the cover and realized I was no longer in the right section. Concerned, I began retracing my steps, peering more carefully at each tag. As before, I did see the Federal Tax casebook on the shelf, but not a hint of any of my other five classes.
Finally defeated (with irrational fears going through my head that every class I had registered for this semester had mysteriously been cancelled) I approached a bookstore employee for help. Somewhat annoyed that I didn't have my course numbers with me, she led me over to a computer and began inputting my professors' names.
"Medieval Legal History?" she asked. "The professor informed us there were no books needed for the course." One by one she looked up all of my classes, and each time informed me the same thing "The system says there are no required texts."
A few hours later, I began to get emails with course syllabi, each one including a message from the instructor that there were no required texts and he (the pronoun evidences my university's gender issues, not mine...all my professors this semester are men) would be emailing us attachments containing our reading assignments each week. So even though it means less impressive-looking tomes to use in torturing my own bookshelf, I think I can live with buying some $2 binders and using my free printouts rather than having to spend money on casebooks. Now I just need to convince my husband that the $700 I had set aside for textbooks should still be spent at a bookstore, on a shopping trip with a more enjoyable purpose :)
