One day, when I was cursing a document, a co-worker told me not to be a “nervous Nellie.” I was startled but I liked this woman, who popped in every morning with a cup of tea or flowers from her garden. I was feeling tense, and she tried to cheer me up.  The phrase “nervous Nellie” wasn’t an insult.  And she was looking out for me.  During our down time, we confided about work stress.  On rebellious days, we defiantly read our library books.

As soon as I left the office, I forgot everything about it. Once home, once the door was closed behind me, I exhaled all my tension.  There I was, in my stocking feet, making a cup of tea and settling down with a good book.  After work, I often read classics: Pindar’s Odes, Castiglione’s The Courtier, Sigrid Undset, and, whenever possible, P. G. Wodehouse.

What is the ensorcellment of good books?  It is a drug with no equivalent.  It is perhaps a form of enchantment. Or is it nature’s way of making us pay attention to details we do not notice? We are transported to a world of euphonious words, especially if we read aloud.  And characters in novels become as real to us as our friends and frenemies.  But best of all is that feeling of tranquility.

I love that feeling of calm.  And I don’t imagine it. Studies show that reading books (it has to be books) can reduce stress and lower your heart rate. Another study claims that it also reduces mortality rates.   And Zoe Shaw, a psychotherapist and author of A Year of Self-Care: Daily Practices and Inspiration for Caring for Yourself, said that  “reading has been connected to meditation in terms of the way our brain processes our environment and our physiological state.”

I’m all for meditation, of course, though I prefer a good book.  Another book-related practice that calms and delights is having nice copies of favorite books.  For example, The Oxford Illustrated Dickens hardcover series is perfect, as far as I’m concerned.  (Used copies abound.)  The books have introductions and the original illustrations by Phiz . (If you want footnotes, you need the Oxford paperback or a Penguin.)  The Oxford Illustrated Dickens is the perfect size for reading in bed or on the bus:  these hardcovers are only slightly larger than the Oxford World’s Classics paperbacks.  My copy of Dombey and Son was reissued in 1989, but this series has gone through several printings since 1959. I absolutely love these books.

Here’s a set of oldies you may remember:  the Great Illustrated Classics.  There was a rack of them at the public library, but they weren’t very attractive. Still, I like them now! I have a  Great Illustrated Classics edition of W. H. Hudson’s Green Mansions, published in 1949.  It looks as though it has been through a war of cocoa and dogeared pages, but I like the introduction by Edwin  Way Teal.  The list of books in this series (you can read it on the back cover) was immense and varied.  Should I try The Last Days of Pompeii or Quo Vadis? I can’t say these are collectibles. If you find one in good condition, you’re very lucky. But there is a nostalgia factor.

Have you seen the Vintage Quarter-Bound Classics? I have not, but they look very pretty in the pictures online. The remarkable thing is that the list of classics is untraditional. Instead of Jane Austen and Middlemarch,  we have  Isabel Allende’s The House of the Spirits, Solzhenitsyn’s Cancer Ward,  Salman Rushdie’s Midnight Children, Toni Morrison’s Beloved, and Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle.  Someday I’ll meet these “in person” at a bookstore and have a better idea of wha they’re like..

And now off to calm myself with a good book. It’s a form of self-care.