I haven't always loved books. I haven't always kept my collection of individual books as I keep them now. Each one bears a memory and a purpose. My collection grows with each purchase. Each addition to my mental and physical bookshelf is a kind of stock to be traded and valued differently. I own books about the nature of consciousness, the human animal, morality, tragedy. I have books that expound upon huge fictitious worlds, some of which include every manner of supernatural being you might be pressed to think of. I also have books on argumentation, philosophy, pop culture and literary analysis. Books of poetry (John Keats being my favorite) and works by the playwright Christopher Marlowe hold a special place on my shelves. The thought of having to abandon all these is an unpleasant one.
Manguel offers similar thoughts on page 237 of the book, where he speaks about his hesitance to part with his personal library. We give ourselves various reasons, but ultimately for me it is about possession. I simply want to keep these books. They are pieces of my identity, as visible in my dealings with people as they are on my shelves. They offer physical reminders of where I have been, and where I am going. My ever growing library is something of a legacy which will pass from me and hopefully continue, long after I am gone.
I am the same way; it is as if when I read a book it has become a part of my soul and to let the actual book go would be allowing a piece of me to be taken away. When the book becomes torn or tattered I refuse to touch it for fear it losing it, so it just stays on my shelf. Every time I look at one of my old books it brings back some type of memory perhaps about the book itself or about something that happened during the time I was reading it.
ReplyDeleteReading your post has granted me with a new perception of owning books. Before today, I did not see the importance of owning books or owning a personal library for that matter. The only time I ever bought books as a child was when I was in elementary school and the Scholastic Book Fair came around. The teachers would bundle the books that all the students bought at the fair with a bow, and place them on our desks. We, as young children, would come back inside the classroom from a special activity (music class, chorus class, P.E., etc.) to bundled packages, enveloped in shiny plastic wrapping, waiting for us.
ReplyDeleteThe sole purpose for me buying books back then was so that I could partake in the frenzy spawned by my peers—I did not want to feel left out. Even though I had a very subordinate motive for buying books in elementary school, now, I would give anything to go back to those days when I got excited by the sight of brand new books, enveloped in shiny plastic wrapping.
You know, I have always wanted a grand library in my house one day. One as big as the one in Beauty and the Beast (if you happen to know what I'm talking about). I realize this is impractical, but I like the idea of it still. Even if you don't read books a second time, just to have them on your shelf reminds you of the good times you find in them. I believe that's why they are hard to part with - because they are so laden with our own experiences, memories, and revelations.
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