This story includes the recounting of a bizarre meeting with the fellow who claimed to have stolen — and eaten — some notable sacred books in England. The man described himself as an addict who, once having tasted quality word, had to have more and more to satisfy his hunger. A friend of Whitehead's describes the compulsion thus: "Since the flesh is the Word, all you have to do is eat a few chunks of holy writ and you're in." Eat God, live forever. (This friend, incidentally, is described as a dealer in celebrity body parts, another spin on the theme of possessing a piece of history through consuming, or purchasing.)
Now, I don't believe this story is intended to be interpreted as a factual news report, but it fascinates me nonetheless. "Bibliovore" is a word sometimes used to describe people — people like me — who devour books in a more figurative sense, by consuming their contents through the eyes. I often refer to my own reading material in terms of food: the cheap mass-market paperbacks that adorn the book stand on my Nordic Track are my candy books: fun and tasty, but not necessarily good for my intellect. At the other end of the scale is dry academic prose, or spinach reading. But in all my years of avid literary consumption, it never once occurred to me to actually tear out a page of Jane Austen, pop it in and chow down. Never once. I've heard of having to eat one's words, but really . . . !