Surverying spines at my favorite basement local library shop for a hidden treasure, my eyes fell on a worn, tan one with faded gold lettering. "The Spanish Gypsy" by George Eliot. Unlike my usual practice, I didn't immediately check the publication date of this volume against its first printing on my phone or compare prices on Abebooks. I turned from the title page back to the front cover, where a bookplate dominated the left side. "Ex Libris Ellen Browning Scripps".
As a native San Diegan, I was familiar with the Scripps family name. I was born at Scripps Memorial Hospital in Encinitas. I have visited the Scripps Institute of Oceanography for the aquarium and played basketball games in Scripps Ranch. My paternal grandparents in San Bernardino live near Scripps College. The list goes on. When I was younger, my dad drove me down to La Jolla to visit Marjorie Scripps, the great-niece in-law of Ellen Browning Scripps. I remember a small, elegant lady whose antique-filled apartment boasted a stunning ocean view. Ellen Browning Scripps herself was a journalist, investor, and philanthropist who was passionate about education and the natural world.
On this book's bookplate, education and nature are highlighted in this artifact, where a classical temple and a more modern cottage in a lush area is soared over by birds and presided over from there by vining flowers and the words "Knowledge is Power." The bookplate features 15 depictions of books, designating the sort of knowledge Scripps wanted to prioritize with this marker of her ownership of this book. I contacted the Ellen Strong Denison Library at Scripps College to see if they had any information in their archives about the acquisition of this particular book. What I was really hoping for was a letter or journal entry responding to this book. The library, unfortunately, did not have any of this.
Taking a step back, I reflected on what drew me to this book in the first place. The initial discovery of it in the Book Cellar. The browned and spotted pages with faint annotations and folded corners. This book is a first American printing, author's edition from advance sheets. Its pages are also foxed, and the edges of its spine and worn. A series of small holes indicate the possibility of an entirely different sort of bookworm than me was delighting in this book at one point. Gross, but also somehow fun to consider.
I keep returning to this particular edition. When I had George Eliot on my mind after finally reading Middlemarch. Or, when I was walking along the water in La Jolla. Stopping to read a plaque, I learned this grassy area was Ellen Browning Scripps Park. I felt a quiet, strange weight. I own something that once belonged to the person a public space was dedicated to. I have a responsibility to share it. "Knowledge is Power" after all.
by Anastasia Armendariz, A Library of One's Own
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