I got a notice from a bookseller I have known for a long time and it gave hint to a clearance sale in process. The truth is I could not help myself. I looked at the pages of offering on their website and lusted after volumes I did not need and probably do not have time left in my life to read but I wanted them. I wanted them with a powerful yearning that made it easy to forget the books I had which lay begging to be opened. They were once the same. I wanted them at one point the way I want the new volumes I have surveyed. I valued them over those already on my shelves the way I how valued the new offerings over my old, worn, covers. Wretched man that I am!
Who will save me from this body of sin and lust? That is the problem. I am not at all sure I want to be saved. Unlike my children who have grown up and lead their own lives, books live quietly on my shelves waiting for my touch and for the scan of my eye. They will not abandon me even when I have lusted for the new I do not have or the old I did not think I would find. It might seem repentance is in order but I fear I would rather keep on lusting than give it all up. It is sort of like the kid who loves the small gift he has received but wonders if that big box under the tree just might be his also. Oh, well. I could probably move a few things around and find space for a few more. What do you think?
Funny you should bring this up. I am helping my daughter move to another place, and have been boxing up and taping the heaviest and bulkiest hardcover books ever printed. Art books weighing twice the weight of my own Strong’s Concordance, classic books, novels, periodicals, unread cook books, and devotionals, etc. Quite a collection. I hope the movers are strong and fit, because these boxes are quite heavy. The problem for people who collect books is that they cart them everywhere they move, and they are unable to part with them. I love books too, but in a different way. I read them, and knowing it is unlikely I will read them twice, I let them go. I give them away, donate them to the library, or retain a fraction of reference books which I may need in the future. So my collection of books is very small, and it fits into my minimalist temperament. Collectors and Minimalists are two strange species of humanity. Basically, collectors are filled with chronic and incurable separation anxiety, while we minimalists are really quite content. When I was a Marine, I went from base to base carrying everything I owned and needed in a large canvas sea bag with a padlock fastened to the top. Arriving at a new assignment, I had a wooden footlocker and a narrow wall locker to hang up my uniforms and gear. It suited me fine, having a few personal affects, stationary, a camera, some photos. I often visited base libraries, read a book, returned it, and this manner of living was unencumbered by clutter. Long after the service ended, I still do not collect much. There is a psychological element working in my mind too. Maybe down deep I do not want to leave a lot of work for my family members after my demise. People with large book collections of little financial value leave the chore of cleaning up to relatives who wind up giving books away, or donating them, but more often throwing away the rest. The truth is, in my view, why not give away or donate good books you have already read, rather than let them collect dust and lie on a shelf for many years. I suppose if one is an academic, book collections are needed for reference. Indeed, a good excuse to build a collection, I suppose.
ReplyDeleteSoli Deo Gloria
Take a few boxes to Symposia, donate books to seminarians.
ReplyDeleteKeep going until your bookshelves look like this:
ReplyDeletehttps://images.stockcake.com/public/2/a/b/2abd91fd-0f1d-45c7-b4ca-347adc344c62/vast-library-interior-stockcake.jpg