Some thoughts on book collecting, book reading, and book love, on National Book Lovers Day.
Sometimes I look at the stacks of unread books that litter the rooms of our house and it dawns on me: I’m never going to read all of these books before I die. That’s a deep, existentially dreadful thought for a book lover. Not gonna lie, when I have this realization—which is frequently in recent years, as times keeps on ticking away—my anxiety spikes a bit. It makes me feel on edge and I usually have to throw myself into something else to break the thought’s hold on me. Gives me the heebie jeebies.
I’m not just a book lover, I’m also a book reader and a book collector. Combining those three traits makes for a hell of a lot of books in my possession. I collect them faster than I can read them. And as I get older, my ADHD seems even more disruptive to my concentration—I also blame smartphones and tablets for eroding all of our abilities to focus—so I read slower than I used to. Years ago, I used to be able to read thirty or forty pages during my lunch break. Now that I’ve been working from home for so many years, I’m realizing I never do that anymore. Instead, I veg out in front of the boob tube or doom scroll on my phone. Then there’s managing all of these schedules in my household—school stuff for the kids is constant—so it’s never easy to find time for calming, pleasurable pursuits like reading. That’s when I stare longingly at my stacks of unread books, sigh, and resign myself to the fact that not only will I never get to read everything I’ve accumulated to this point, but I will continue to accumulate more books and continue to not read those as well. It’s a humbling thought. We really are finite creatures.
Complicating matters even more, the unread stacks are comprised of books, comic books, and even some magazines. This is where it becomes obvious that being a book collector is a very different thing than being a book reader. Both are book lovers, of course, but each pastime provides its own, unique rewards. The hunt for old, rare gems in the wild is one thing, while sitting down to read these gems is another. Both acts provide great pleasure to book lovers, but sometimes the thrill of the hunt means we’re forever doomed to outpace our ability to keep up with reading all of these great finds. Oof.
Nevertheless, having too many books is a good, first-world problem to have. Every now and then, I purge large amounts of them from the house, donating to libraries or thrift stores. I also try to take books out of the library that I’m less sure I’ll absolutely love. Still, it’s never enough to whittle the stacks down to manageable numbers. Sometimes I feel completely overwhelmed by the prospect of never finishing them all, but there’s a school of thought that just being surrounded by books is actually good for the soul. So who cares if I might never read them all? It does provide me with great joy to know my books are there for me when I need them, whether it’s for a reread of an old favorite or a first-time read of a potential new favorite.
Happy Book Lovers Day. Go forth and read what you can, and don’t sweat the stuff you aren’t reading yet (or might never read).
The Starfire Lounge 