Here are covers of books that I loved so much during my childhood - "365 Stories" (for every day in the year) and Hans Christian Andersen's "Fairy Tales" as they were published in than-Yugoslavia in the 1970s. I was a true, little bookworm and today I will look back at those times with wonder and awe. How one becomes a lover of literature?
It is nothing unusual that child with all the privileges of happy, warm and comforting home gets nurtured and educated into certain talents, tastes or hobbies. Children are like little sponges and give them violin, track toy or a pet, chances are they might create the whole world out of it that will determine their future perception of the world. With the right influence, the kid might learn to play an instrument or to love sport, cars or even to love science. But what about those little people who somehow show spark of interest that stands completely at odds with their surroundings?
My mother read me little picture books - this I can't remember clearly, except as a foggy sensations of warmth and comfort. But I do remember having some picture books with little records - you listen the record and turn the page when bell rings. This clearly interested me far more than any of my toys and I would often get all sorts of picture books for present. Until the school age I had already learnt how to read trough comics and children's books, so school was terribly boring. For some reason I still remember our class memorising some simple song about cat and bird - where other kids suffered trough lines, I read them all quickly and than returned to my comics under the table. But no one had ever encouraged this passion for reading - my foster-family was not affectionate and though they fed, clothed and washed me, it was as far as their care went. God knows what I read - probably everything I could put my hands on - until lovely, retired teacher from my neighbourhood (sweet, old Marija Čičin Šain whom I will remember as long as I live) took a few coins from her purse and sent me to became a member of the local library - the whole new world has opened to me than and I wallowed in the books without anybody instructing me to do so or forcing me to read. Where other kids suffered trough books, I was completely omnivorous - and when I finished with children's part, I moved into grown ups part of the library. Illustrated encyclopedias were my biggest joy because they had so many interesting information, nice pictures and ideas. Sure, I probably went trough all kinds of crap simply because it was available - Harold Robbins and Sydney Sheldon were big bestsellers back than, but I also clearly remember cooling off them and searching for something more substantial while my library-going friend stuck to her thrillers and wouldn't budge.
At certain point I spread my wings and moved to other libraries, searching for "new books". Surely it was probably all the same, but at least space seemed different. And so it continued, even as I moved to other countries - I bought quite a few books, naturally but libraries were - and still are - my temples. For the past ten years I have been working on cruise ships and very rarely have I found anything truly interesting in their libraries, but travelling around the world also gave me insight into local bookshops. I can get along Copenhagen, Stockholm, Barcelona or any of Caribbean islands (not to mention South Africa) and find my way to bookshops. As for London's or Amsterdam's bookshops, I know them inside out. You can bet that the moment I settle on land with a decent job - no matter where - finding a rich library would be my first priority. And here I am, at the age of 44 and still crazy in love with books just as I was long ago. Nobody ever tutored me or instructed me in this, it was completely spontaneous and natural. How and why did I grew up to be lifelong book-lover in spite of being raised by people who hardly ever read, its still a mystery to me.
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