Tasting Freedom At Barnes & Noble.

ANTHONY EDWARDS patted the right pocket of his jeans, just to make sure his dictionary was there. He drew it out, thumbing the yellowing pages, pressing down the packing tape that held the cover. Then he walked through the front door and down the aisles of a shop along Route 22 here. He was 31 years old and going to a bookstore for the first time in his life, and he was determined to be able to understand every single word he encountered.

There was a lot to do in the next two hours. He needed to stop by the business section to look for a book that might help him with his plan to open a barbershop. He wanted to check out the music section, because his sister played the organ. In the children’s section, he hoped to find something to interest his 13-year-old son, to get him off those video games.

Nearly a decade ago, hanging out in a bookstore would have seemed so corny. Back then, Mr. Edwards was a high school dropout, known as Kat on the streets of Paterson, and Top Cat on his arrest record, the one that described his itinerary for the evening of Nov. 12, 1997. With a friend, a stolen car and several weapons, he robbed nine people within an hour. He wound up with a few dollars, some jewelry and, ultimately, a prison sentence of 9 years, 10 months and 4 days.

All that time gave him a chance to reconsider the virtues of corniness. He had gotten his first dictionary in prison, from a friend serving 30 years for homicide. Mostly, Mr. Edwards took it to the law library, doing a felon’s version of homework. Only later, after he was transferred to a halfway house in Newark, had someone suggested to him that reading had purposes beyond filing an appeal.

Read the whole NY Times article.