I always think it's very sad when someone comes to my house, beholds the mighty Wall of Books, realizes there's more bookshelves everywhere, and says, as if it's a bad thing, "Do you really read all these books?"
My mom keeps telling me to leave some of my books at home, as I keep on accumulating more and they become somewhat of a hassle to pack up and move, but I've refused. Of course I don't have time to read them all, but there's something intangibly wonderful about having them with me, to see them and touch them. I told her they keep me sane, but she can't seem to wrap her head around that concept.
Me and P-C? Separated at birth. Except my mom never wondered at why I'd want all the books around.
"Witness MONSTRO! Bookcase of Immensity! Nineteenth Wonder of the World in a recent survey of twenty people!"
Eight feet on a side, Monstro the Bookcase of Immensity takes up an entire wall in our living room. He is chock-full of books (though I can squeeze in more). And people upon first laying eyes on him often say "Do you read all those?" or "CRAP!"
Later they ask "Do you NEED all those?"
Yes. Yes, I do. I can't explain it, I can't really logically justify it...I need all those books right there where I can look at them and feel the weight of their words and knowledge and stories and wisdom. It makes this place my Home and it makes me feel at peace.
Thankfully, I have a very understanding wife.
I would love to keep them all, but I just can't. There isn't room. But mostly, I don't get rid of any book till I've read it twice.
Yes. Yes, I do. I can't explain it, I can't really logically justify it...I need all those books right there where I can look at them and feel the weight of their words and knowledge and stories and wisdom. It makes this place my Home and it makes me feel at peace.
Yup.
Though in recent past I've been able to go to my shelves, pull down three or four books, and give someone a complete answer with example and citations for some school work. "Oh!," they gasped. "It's just like a real library!"
Uh, yeah.
Seriously, you guys, don't leave your books at your parents'. They disappear before you have the chance to get them.
"We figured you didn't want them anymore. Anyway, they were all old."
My parents keep books I'd happily burn for warmth after running from the frost.
They didn't throw away anything I didn't take out of the house. Some is charmingly nostalgic, and some is a reminder of how crap my taste was.
I'm not much of a book-keeper myself. If it's not non-fiction, I have to like it a real lot to hang on.
Seriously, you guys, don't leave your books at your parents'.
Unless it is my parents' house.
The way they cull books when the shelves get full? They send them to me. Or to my aunts who eventually send them to me.
I'm now officially out of bookshelf space and wall space for bookshelves.
I think I may start sending some to a friend with very similar reading tastes.
I read more words than I ever have, I bet, and fewer books.
This. Between school, comics, and fanfic, far less of what I read comes in bound, made-of-paper, non-illustrated form. But overall, I'm reading far more.
Though in recent past I've been able to go to my shelves, pull down three or four books, and give someone a complete answer with example and citations for some school work. "Oh!," they gasped. "It's just like a real library!"
Uh, yeah.
A friend of mine was talking about Borders' summer reading list (buy three, get one free), and how she was just noting the names of the books so she could read them. She mentioned
On the Road,
and I said, "Oh, I have that," and grabbed it for from the bookshelf. Then she said
Siddhartha,
and I said, "I have that too," and got it for her as well. It was pretty awesome.
