I love books. I come from a book loving family and have always loved books. Through most of my life, I have been loathe to part with them. The same goes for the printed word in general. To me, the experience of my college Japanese history class captured in notes or the experience of reading F. Scott Fitzgerald in my high school library was so important that I was not able to disconnect the experience from the material they were printed on. That was, until fifteen years ago when my Aunt began preparing for her death.
I dont know quite what inspired my Aunt to begin preparing for her death, but it was not the usual reasons, sickness, old age or loneliness. I believe it had to do with too many books.
At the young age of sixty, she had just finished moving to a new house in Los Angeles and the biggest part of the move (the heaviest, most time consuming and most expensive) was moving her collection of books. In fact, she had moved a number of times in a short number of years and had come to look on her most prized possession her library as the biggest burden in her life. It was around that moment that she decided to let them go....
My Aunts library was the best in the family, and it easily filled 100 boxes. My grandmother was an English teacher and Shakespeare scholar in New York City in the 40s, 50s and 60s and my aunt inherited her library. Added to this, my Aunt is a writer herself and had always looked upon her books as the record not only of her life, but also her mothers life (and therefore our family). Letting go of this collection was a big deal.
But my Aunt had been seized by the notion that at that point in her life, she had lugged these books around enough (almost 30 years) and it was no longer doing her any good. At one time the library was a positive, but it had long since become a negative.
It was, therefore, time to prepare for death; time to let go of the earlier part of her life and prepare for the end. This was not meant as a morbid goal. Rather, it was time to be free from all the weight and burden that she had created and was still carrying around from her first 60 years. By preparing for death, she would give herself a clean slate and fully live the rest of her life, unhindered by loose ends, unfinished tasks and ambiguous relationships.
This meant far more than simply giving away her library.
In addition to lightening up, she also committed herself to dealing with tying up unfinished business with friends and family, and having conversations that needed to be had, but had never happened. Over the next year, she had intense and gratifying conversations with each of her grown children and with her ex-husband in which issues were spoken about and dealt with had been dormant for years. She also met with close friends and spoke truthfully with them and she straightened out all of her business dealings and sold off investments that had languished for years. And she also began to give away her library.
First, she took out her most essential books, those that formed the DNA of her library and which she could easily keep. These would fit in one box. Then she gave small selections to every member of our family, before inviting close friends to come over and take a book for themselves.
I was given a large, old book about the man who really wrote all of Shakespeares plays (yes, its true) which had been a favorite conspiracy theory of my Grandmothers as well as her book. In the end, the rest of the collection was given to my Aunts local library, intact.
At this point, one could still be skeptical and, indeed, our family had long become used to my Aunts wild, California ideas, but the voluntary simplicity that she entered into not only transformed her life, it transformed mine. By preparing for her death at 60, her life has never been happier or fuller than in the last fifteen years, and it caused me to look far differently at my life at a much younger age.
Books are collections of old thoughts captured on paper.
Thoughts are important; books are not.
People are important; books are not.
Books are useful and their use lasts only as long as we read them and are not weighed down by excessive clinging to the paper they are written on. We, especially in New York, shouldnt have a collection of books that displaces other, more lively tasks or forces one to consider the library as burdensome elephant taking up the entire apartment.
I still love books, but I keep my collection small. I am not waiting until 60. My Aunt taught me that we dont need the things as much as we need what is in them, inspiration and recollections of thought, feeling and action.
When we give up the things we may feel some pain at the loss, but more than likely we are just giving up a crutch and will sooner learn to walk. MGR
(Photos: 1. Library of Alexandria 3rd century BC 2. F. Scott Fitzgerald 3. lots'o books 4. nice road in Sweden)
My only problem with them it not enough shelves to hold 'em and time to read them.
If you feel a need for books, and are strapped for cash, try the used book sales run by libraries (google) the books are cheap 50 cents to a dollar for hardcovers is usual, maybe a little more for one the sellers think valuable say $10 even $20 (the horror). The sales often have almost new books as well older stuff.
One I saw recently "Tom Swift and the War Tank" published 1918. Tom Swift is that old?!
The catch is, the used book sellers you see on Amazon, Alibris, Addall, et al... are all there too, hunting for stock. So you have to be there when the sale opens or before in line and hit the section you want right quick.
In most sales the racks and tables have been "high graded" in under 20minutes by the professionals. The atmosphere is like an intellectual post Christmas sale, the elbows are sharp, but the tone civil.
What's left after an hour may not be bad, especially if you are looking for older books in lessor, but readable condition, but the prizes go like greased weasels.
Finally the multi-days sales ofen have a first day where the dealers are mostly priced out of the market, but it's still a deal for individuals.
Good hunting.
Great advice! For avid readers, it feels cold to get rid of books, but once you start, it's much easier to draw a distinction between books you need and books that you don't. If you think a cluttered closet is bad, cluttered bookcases that bow under the weight of what's on them are much worse.
I'm all for editing, but people often save books because of the marginalia; it shows an engagement between themselves and the book. A reading journal is fine, but a book with your favorite passages underlined/marked and your comments in the margin represent a more intimate connection to your books. I know academics and other avid readers prefer this approach to reading.
I can see devoting 2 bookcases to your favorite books, but the thought of reducing your library to a dozen or so books, horrifies me.
But I also love seeing books piled up next to the bed and sofa, so I know this approach is not for everyone.
Hmm, this is the second anti-book post I've noticed here. Do I notice a trend? I know feng shui says that books are like daggers, but why such strict adherence?
In our time, our minds are stored in computers and books, in technology, and fighting that reality is not harmonious. I think we need *more* intellectual engagement, to get rid of the irrelevant yes, but *not to be afraid to challenge ourselves* with books. To deny the life of the mind, to only acknowledge the world of physical experience, that is also not living a whole, fully formed life. When I walk into someone's home, the first thing I am drawn to are their books, as a map of them.
"Old thoughts captured on paper"? The past is as present as anything new you could experience.
I need to say a couple more things because I am really passionate about this subject. We need to push ourselves to be intellectually engaged beyond the "essential," to look beyond what is comfortable. Yes there are libraries, but to really have ownership over the intellectual journey of your life is commendable. Being human is defined by what is not essential, explorations that go beyond the necessities of survival (love, art, religion, etc.).
I look at peoples' book collections because it is a map of their inner, personal life. It is a map of what they are searching for, what they are challenging themselves with, what they desire. It is a map of a vivid, active imagination. Those are things you often cannot see at a dinner party.
On a lighter note, there is a quiz of sorts on this subject,
quizilla.com/users/thebecca/quizzes/What%20Kind%20of%20Elitist%20Are%20You%3F/
...you are a damn fine writer...
I both agree and disagree with Sara and some of the other posters here. If you have books that you love that really are friends, then those truly are your teasured posessions. I have a copy of Marco Polo with wonderful 1920s woodcut illustrations that I couldn't bare to part with. There may be a day when, like the author's aunt, I declare even my treasured copy of Marco Polo to be baggage. If I have to choose between my own long adventure around the world or keeping Marco around, I know Marco will be in someone else's collection.
The point is to pick and choose among the things you have, and to honor the ones that you really adore. To me this also means making sure that my books not stacked haphazardly around the place, or simply collecting dust on some rickety bookshelf or [horrors!] in some storage facility. If you really want those books, you can buy yourself an extra bookshelf. I've been in the houses of people who have "libraries" of dime-store scifi or romance novels that they never touch again and don't use, much like those collections of beanie babies, fridge magnets and fast food toys that land people on "Clean Sweep"...
[Oh, and aparently I'm a fine art and decor expert, which is something of a surprise to me considering that half of my furniture comes from IKEA. Then again, they mispelled "fortés" and "objets d'art".]
Bookcrossings (www.bookcrossings.com/) is great for this. You register a book you want to give away, put an ID number in it, and then leave it in a public place. Ideally, you end up tracing its travels as others pick it up, read it, and then leave it for the next finder.
It appears the writers of this website are obessessed with the idea of not having many books. This is something I don't get. Having too much of anything is bad. Things that bring you joy you should keep, things that weigh you down you should get rid of. If it brings you joy to have 2000 books, then keep those 2000 books!
I found this dialogue to be very interesting - I am nearing the age of Maxwell's aunt and have begun feeling the weight of my many many books too. But then when I think about those I could consider giving away, my heart sinks. My books define me to a great extent - anyone reading the titles and seeing my various collections would know a lot about me, without having to actually talk to me! I guess I will keep them for a bit longer.
I live in a studio apartment. I've lived there about 5 years now. I love books and I love art. I keep buying art books to teach myself techniques. At the same time I have accumulated a lot of art material also. I don't have much storage space and all of a sudden I looked around and said, these books are taking over my life; they are everywhere. I do have book shelves, but not enough. Books are my comfort. When I am upset, I go to a bookstore. There does come a day, though, when you do have to weed through them I guess and keep only the ones that you have room for and that you love the most. I am trying to totally redo my apartment and make it into a home. I found this website in the book "Mission Organization". I do need help. I am a packrat as well as a book lover.
I recently cleaned out about 5 boxes of books from my scattered (no proper place to put it) collection. It felt great. It was shocking how many truly crappy books I had (The biography of Courtney Love, numerous Hare Krishna volumes???, etc.).
On the downside, I celebrated my new-found uncluttered space by winning 12 design book auctions on EBAY this week.
Lesson learned? Doubtful.