There is clear evidence that some of my priorities in life
are changing. Here is one tell-tale sign. Last weekend, the Glen Rock Public
Library held its annual book sale. And I made my annual appearance there,
scouring through the offerings and debating which ones I wanted to have or
needed to have. This annual debate comes with several different questions for
me to ponder: Is there room on my crowded shelves for more books? Is Audrey
going to have a critical comment about my adding more books to those shelves?
Do I really care if she is right in suggesting that I’m probably never going to
read most of the books that I’m adding to my crowded shelves?
The sale and my mental debate go on each year, so what was different this time? In a word—ratio. In the month prior to the book sale, I boxed up and contributed more than 60 books for the Friends of the Library to include in the sale. Some of the books I had fallen out of love with. Some I had read and didn’t plan to read again. Some I thought might attract the interest of buyers other than me and be good business for the sale. And some I couldn’t figure out why I owned in the first place. Then, on the day I made my book-sale appearance, I purchased —count them—only three books, almost a world record low for me. 60 books out, 3 in—the ratio seems all wrong. Which is where I see
evidence of changing priorities.
My three new purchases included a copy of Thomas Hardy's collected poems. Can you ever have enough Hardy? |
During most of my life, my books have been my most prized
possessions—and the bulk of what I own. Take my move from college to graduate
school in June 1971. Graduation was on a Monday, and my graduate program was
set to begin Friday later the same week. My parents and I packed all of my
possessions into one of the world’s oldest and most rickety Ford Econo-line
vans for the 104-mile trip between New Haven and Providence. The possessions
consisted of two boxes of clothes, two boxes of record albums, and ten boxes of
books—which would seem to be the right ratio for the me then. The van had only
two seats, so my father and I took turns driving or sitting on one of the boxes
in the back. My mother, as always, rode shotgun. The box sitter spent a lot of
time trying to find his balance as the van rocked on its poor springs and loose
axles, and the boxes shifted around in the cargo section. That memorable trip
ended with me getting out of the van and helping to push it up the steep hill
that leads from downtown Providence to Brown on the east side. Not a pretty
picture!
As the years have gone by, I have added to my possessions
and have done occasional winnowings. On the book front, however, the balance
has been mostly to add rather than to subtract. It is hard for me to discard a
book. I once made the excruciating decision to box up several cartons of books
and take them to a used-book store that specialized in both collectables (as I
saw my offerings) and junk (as Audrey viewed most of them).The owner rejected almost
all of my books and suggested that I do my best for society by (shudder)
recycling them as old paper. Imagine, a bookseller without a heart! What did I
do with the bulk of the books? I recycled a few and gave most of the rest to
the library book sale that year. I hope that they found good adopted homes. I
filled their spots on my shelves with new purchases.
Then, this year, the changing me gave away 20 times more
books than he took in, and I see that as a continuing pattern. What’s the
explanation? I’m not sure that the difference is so much a matter of shifting interests
as one of age and pragmatism. As I went through the books at this year’s sale,
I focused first on title and topic. But I looked just as critically at length
and type size. I have reached an age where my eyes and brain just don’t want to
work as hard as they once did to get through a long book printed in type meant
for younger eyes, those requiring a milder prescription with a lesser astigmatism.
Sadly, I’m sure that there will come a time, hopefully far away, when I will be
turning my book purchasing to large-type books or upping the font size of books
on my Kindle from moderate to REALLY BIG! But I still plan to be at next year’s
book sale at the Glen Rock library and at others in neighboring towns. I have
my priorities, after all!
I can certainly empathize. And I'm glad you got that Kindle.... Keep up the good reading--and writing!
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