When I was seven years old, my mom got ensnared by a door-to-door World Book encyclopedia sales pitch.
That set, in turn, ensnared me. It was the closest thing in the 1970s to today's internet. I could look up almost any topic that came to mind. I could research any topic we were learning in grade school. When I was bored, I could flip through any volume and learn about whatever subject happened to present itself. I still remember the acetate sheets separating the human body into skeletal, muscular, nervous, and digestive layers. I remember the beautiful drawings of sea creatures. I even remember article typefaces.
Maybe I'd have figured this out anyway, but those encyclopedia gave me the lifelong habit of assuming that answers were out there, if you had the ability and desire to go find them. They also sparked a love of reading for fun.
Ditto! In perhaps 1974 my parents acquired a used recent-edition (1972?) World Book encyclopedia set for my sister and I to leverage in our pre-college studies, and until perhaps 1980 that was by far my most-read (set of) books. I fondly remember the pseudo-topographic colored state maps with their geographic-region delineations and associated region descriptions. I think this was how I developed my (apparently relatively atypical) affinity for consuming reference manuals.
Similar thing here. Years later I purchased a used Encyclopedia Brittanica to see if it could bring some of that magic back. It didn't work, I didn't really engage with the articles in the same way.
I think the World Book editors encouraged some kind of writing that was more engaging to grade school/teenage me. The set is still in my parents' house, but I'm scared that the spell might break if I open it again now.
A few years ago my wife told me that she’d always wanted an encyclopedia set. Her family had been too poor to have one when she was a kid. We got it for her for her birthday. It sits proudly in the middle of our shelf, and she is slowly working through each volume, entry by entry.
For me it was an old Britannica set that had coloured anatomical drawings on translucent pages so you could peel away the skin and work down to the bones — both sexes.
That set, in turn, ensnared me. It was the closest thing in the 1970s to today's internet. I could look up almost any topic that came to mind. I could research any topic we were learning in grade school. When I was bored, I could flip through any volume and learn about whatever subject happened to present itself. I still remember the acetate sheets separating the human body into skeletal, muscular, nervous, and digestive layers. I remember the beautiful drawings of sea creatures. I even remember article typefaces.
Maybe I'd have figured this out anyway, but those encyclopedia gave me the lifelong habit of assuming that answers were out there, if you had the ability and desire to go find them. They also sparked a love of reading for fun.