Confessions of a Bibliophile

Sat 13 Aug 2011 Filed in: My Life
Solomon got it right. “Of making many books,” he wrote, “there is no end, and much study wearies the body.” I have no doubt that with the approach of a new school year, some of my student friends will appreciate that piece of Solomon’s wisdom, but it is not their welfare that prompts the reminder. It is the size of a personal library that has grown too big. And so encouraged by several people who independently have gently nudged me to lighten my load, some of those books - and a lot of other stuff - will be finding new homes.

Getting rid of stuff may be liberating, but it is also work. Someone should have told Solomon that shedding can be just as wearying as study. I admire people who joyfully and ruthlessly rid themselves of that which has ceased to be a useful and meaningful part of their lives. They possess a discipline that I apparently lack. But disciplined or not, the lightening process has begun.

I approach the task with mixed feelings. I embrace the joyful stirring of the freedom of simplicity, but when it comes to books, I have a hard time letting go. Perhaps I was born a generation too soon. In the information age of Kindles and Nooks (or is that Nindles and Kooks?) “books” take up a lot less space. But I am a child of the printed page who takes delight in the feel and the smell of books with real pages, however dusty they may be. They are my friends. (Some of them were Joan’s friends or Matt’s friends.) It is a bit like having a couple of thousand Facebook friends and suddenly deciding to unfriend 1500 of them. It makes life simpler, but. . . .

I like books, but it is time for some of them to move on.
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