I grew up reading everything I could. My parents always encouraged me to read and never told me that something was not "appropriate" for my age. That's how I ended up reading Moby Dick when I was ten [ I thought that was just a whale tale for 15 years].
I've been fascinated with Sci-Fi ever since I first read Jules Verne. From there, my obsession just grew and grew. The one book that sealed it for me was "Foundation" by Isaac Asimov.
I read it maybe 5 times in the first 2 years and was always looking for a new book in the series and the extended Robots and Empires series.
I'm 30 now and have read probably all the books written by Asimov.
Back then, if you wanted to read the book, you had to actually buy the book, only available in one edition, mostly sold-out. Living in a small city was an unexpected advantage as you could have found at the local libraries one or two books somewhere in the back if you were persuasive enough. Remember, this was before internet and forums and the likes. We had a catalog delivered to our house once a year and sometimes you could place an order by mail.
The first book of the series I found in my house though. My parents liked Sci-Fi as well, but it wasn't their main focus. They just liked to read all kind of books. They had the 'main" sci-fi books, just enough for me to get a taste and want for more.
This is where I found myself.
This was Romania, 1998-2000.
I was 13 going on 14.
The books were published by Nemira and had amazing covers that, to this day, are considered art and an early example of Romanian comic-book type of drawing.
If you didn't find the books in the library, as was often the case, you had to go scavenge-hunting from "antique stores" or old men selling second hand books on the stairs in the center of Bucharest.
Second hand books sold in the center of Bucharest
You would recognize a Nemira book from a distance: the colors were unmistakable. A milky black and an awesome, a lot of times unrelated to the story, drawing in front. The tile in BIG, BOLD colorful letters.
They had such a futuristic feel to them and even holding one today make me feel nostalgic for that time. I can't tell you how different they were from everything you could find in those years in Romania. Now, some of them feel bland and commonplace but they were absolutely cutting-edge at the time.
One book was 10-20 lei, I can't even tell you what this meant back then, but probably not more than 5$. It was a lot to my parents though.
Nemira book cover example. The weirder, the better.
Some of us were lucky enough to have uncles or older friends who were into sci-fi and would borrow you a book - withered and mysterious - only after you swore a blood-oath that you will cherish it and return it to its rightful owner.
I was one of the lucky one: had an uncle obsessed with Sci-fi.
He was an archaeologist, which in itself was such a weird and fascinating job. What did he even do, I wondered?
He would appear at our house sometimes with a hat and a pipe and tales of what lies undiscovered in the earth near Romanian cities. I didn't know what to believe really but it seemed fascinating. I hoped he'd discover a dinosaur one day and maybe I'd get to see a bone. The Jurassic Park fever got to us Romanians pretty hard.
An early collector of books, back when collecting sci-fi books was such a niche hobby - remember, Romania after communism was a very bizarre place to be - that he knew by name and address all the others who did the same. They negotiated by phone and traded by mail. If they lived in the same city, they were long time friends usually.
I was lucky, as I said, because my uncle got married.
His wife was not simpatico towards his rather expensive hobby and pushed for him to stop. After a few years, just when I was hitting peak- sci fi obsession and looking hungrily for new books to read - he called.
Nemira covers. An interesting tidbit, all these covers were designed by the same guy: Tudor Popa
"You want some books?" he asked.
"...of course! What can I borrow?" I wondered.
I couldn't even imagine what was next. Borrowing a book from this uncle was a whole ordeal, even for someone like me, used with people who cared for books.
He was extremely anal about it. He had a huge notebook, a register of sorts where he entered each book borrowed. He made notes of the book condition, the time for its return and other little observations. You had to sign to get it and sign again on return.
Once, I was chastised for 10 minutes for a torn book corner.
Another time, he told me how his borrowed this precious book to a friend of his in 1989. The man never returned it.
His reason: When the revolution came he had it in a backpack that got lost during the turmoil. My uncle didn't believe him and accused him repeatedly of stealing his book. His friend lost his borrowing privileges forever.
In his defense, I understood him. I was not as scrupulous but cared about the books I borrowed. Not returning a book is a good origin story for an arch-enemy.[ I have a few ]
Needless to say, I didn't borrow too often from him, but he had a great collection so it was actually worth it, even if the process was cumbersome.
"Everything" he answered.
I was silenced.
He did good on his word, the books reached me eventually.
That's another story in itself. I was not living in Bucharest at the time but in a town roughly 60km away. Today, that's a 45 minutes drive but back then we didn't have a car so my father talked with a friend and they drove [ well, the friend drove, my father didn't have a driving license ] to Bucharest, took the books from my uncle and drove back.
I came home from school to be welcomed by a huge pile of books: Foundation, Dune, Heinlein, the works. They were ordered by author and year and deposited in nice cardboard boxes. I was like a very hungry kid in a candy store!
It was staggering really and those books fueled my obsession for a long time.
I still have most of them.
And in case you wonder, yes, the uncle STILL asks me about those book 20 years later.
A small part of the books I had received. Photo taken today
the end.