I love books. My earliest memories of reading are those of being coaxed through the Dick and Jane books by my mother. Once I had enough ability to figure out new words in context for myself, I was flying and never looked back.
My mother sometimes had to come into my room late at night and force me to turn my light out and go to sleep. I was able to circumvent her authority in winter though; we had electric blankets with a tiny orange light as an indicator on the 1-to-9 temperature gauge. After she left the room I would pull that off my head board and scan the dim glow across each line of my book as I read, squinting.
When you're passionate enough about something, it's really hard for anybody to thwart your pursuit.
We have two tall, white bookshelves in our basement that house most of the books Amy and I own. Mostly mine on one and hers on another. Mine tells a tale dominated by fantasy and sci-fi, peppered by some of the classics, spiritual questing, as well as hard science. A few university text books I hang on to for some reason. Hers bursts with V.C. Andrews, Janet Evanovich, Diana Gabaldon, Catherine Alliott and others outside my own sphere of preference.
Some books have migrated one way or the other and we've forgotten who they originally belonged to. Nearly spilling off one of my shelves is a copy of John Gray's Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus. It might be mine, but I know I've never finished it. It might be Amy's -- I know she's finished it. And I know now I'm never going to finish it after Amy once summed it up for me in a single sentence: Men Are From Earth, Women Are From Earth; Deal With It.
One of the small details that helps bind our marriage together is our mutual respect for books. I'm mostly joking when I say I can't respect someone who habitually cracks the spines of paperback novels, but that's a bridge we've never had to cross in our relationship. I had a difficult time in university when I decided to sell my entire collection of Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms fantasy novels. They played a huge role in what hooked me into reading, but I convinced myself I'd outgrown them and needed the shelf space. The Wee Book Inn would pay no more than 75 cents per paperback, and only if each was in perfect shape. I walked out with more than 50 bucks in my pocket and an unquiet sensation in my soul.
One of the touchiest areas in literature is those books that purport to delve into spirituality. I have some I've gone back to again and again as trusted guides. Then there's Deepak Chopra. I ordered his How To Know God via a now-defunct book club membership, and gave up in disgust after a couple chapters. (thwip, thwip, thwip. "What the f......?!" *fling* *THUD!* *smack*) I can't even go into my reasons for abandoning it since it no longer stirs any memories other than a deep-seated aversion to inflicting it upon myself ever again. What amuses me now is that I inadvertently ordered the LARGE PRINT copy of the book, so I feel like - if I still wanted to - I could get to know God REALLY LOUDLY.
I have four different copies of Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. I've only read two. One is a paperback I bought years ago, whose spine is still crease-free. The other, published on Tolkien's 100th birthday, a gorgeous hardback whose pages are interspersed with 50 full colour illustrations by Alan Lee. A stunning volume. The other two are boxed sets received as gifts, in which the book is broken out into its component parts -- three books in one set, seven in the other. But if I'm going to read it (as I've done six times now I think), I prefer to pick up the full tome and feel the heft of such a master work, rather than a chunk at a time.
I used to feel a little embarrassed at some of the books I clung to over the years. Almost as if I should have turfed them like I did the Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms series. I grew up and out of the Dick and Jane days; so too should I cast aside my pulp fantasy and adolescent whimsy. I don't feel that way any more. My dad got me the first three books of Piers Anthony's Xanth series for Christmas many, many years ago. All I really remember from it are names like Bink, Dor, Princess Irene, and Good Magician Humphrey. And acres and acres of really bad puns. I think I gave up on it after the twelfth or so book, but I still see new ones sometimes when I wander through Chapters. I look at them fondly and then walk by.
No, I'm going to hang on to all my books from now on. For the same reason that big cardboard box full of Star Wars toys will always come with me. I value the place each had in its time, and I can look at them as mile-markers to help see the path behind me. And if one day my boys feel like plonking down on the side of the road and picking one up for a spell, that would be kind of cool too.
I still own Dragonlance books. However, mostly just the originals by Weis and Hickman, which I now own in the annotated versions. I remember Chronicles and Legends as a major part of the escapism that helped me survive my high school years at school and home.
I own the Lord of the Rings in two versions. One of those gorgeously Alan Lee illustrated versions, and a book club omnibus. I still have way too many books boxed up that I need to get rid of. A large portion of the books I have on the shelf now are technical books dealing with computers and networking.
I read quite a few of the Xanth books myself. They lost their charm when I realized in later years that Anthony is quite conceited and that the books are written from the viewpoint of a 15 year old.
Posted by: Alvis | Sunday, 25 March 2007 at 06:40 AM
I can never get rid of books. A bunch of the ones I have were salvaged from an old set of books my mom received from a neighbour when they moved. Whenever I start to lack shelf-space, I look to those for potential goners. Sometimes they go, sometimes not, but I always have trouble deciding (and they're not even books I chose and bought or anything!).
I still have all my kid/youth books, down to the babysitters club and fear street. Partly because once in a while I'll pick up one (they read in an hour or two) when I feel the whim, still. Partly because, like you, I think my kids might read some (or I can read some to them). Well, maybe not the fear street stuff.
We just reinstalled the bookcase after our basement mini-reno, and I was looking for books to be rid of. I found just the two : one we have twice, and another battered copy of a mothering-advice book I never read. Then I picked up the latter and read a few pages. "Hum, not so bad" I thought. Maybe I'll keep it a while yet.
Posted by: Emilie B. | Sunday, 25 March 2007 at 08:03 AM
Loved this line, "I could get to know God REALLY LOUDLY." Sounds like a few churches I've attended as a visitor.
I, too, find it hard to toss aside books.
I know the feeling about two separate book collections. While we don't keep ours as sharply separate physically, there's a line there that's rarely crossed. Danielle Steele and Nicholas Sparks on her side (although no new Steele has come along in quite some time), Tolkien, King (from my past), and others on mine.
Oddly, I read and loved Memoirs of a Geisha, and she has not bothered to start it.
My wife's membership in a book reading club has blurred the lines a little between our tastes. Shoot the Moon by Billie Letts is a fine example.
I'm working on her to read others in my collection, but haven't made much progress.
Posted by: Mark | Monday, 26 March 2007 at 06:13 AM
Our books are pretty well mixed at this point since we opted for the alpha-by-author method. But it's still pretty clear whose is whose. In fact, yyou described my books almost perfectly. I can't get rid of old college text books. Science books I used to pick up at a wholesaler for $5 a hardback here and there. And obviously science fiction. Most my Dragonlance and Forgotten Realms went to Goodwill during last year's spring cleaning, but a few of the choice Realms books are tucked safely in a basement closet with my box of Star Wars toys. I don't plan on reading them any time soon...but they're...part of me.
I was once a fanatical spine defender. My Forgotten Realms books were pristine. "Arch the covers, save the spine. The covers will recover on the bookshelf," I'd argue. However, my take on that changed when in New Orleans for some reason. Maybe it was being surrounded by the beauty of decay. Or maybe it was that I was unemployed and would just walk or bike around with a paperback in my back pocket looking for a sunny spot to read that made me fall in love with the well worn paperback. But now I don't fret so much. There's something lovely about a book that has been places.
Posted by: Moksha Gren | Monday, 26 March 2007 at 07:45 AM
So what happened here, Si? Comments finished by 7:45 in the AM? I was expecting some sort of pristine vs broken spine battle royale. Some sort of mention of Elminster or the art of Jeff Easley.
But alas...you were too busy "plugging your wife" to have those discussions ;)
Posted by: Moksha Gren | Tuesday, 27 March 2007 at 10:05 AM
Moksha, out of respect for our friendship I will refrain from iflicting on you the diatribe that you so justly deserve for your heathenistic spine-bending ways. I keep myself in check... but barely.
That said, Jeff Easley was my favourite Forgotten Realms cover artist. But I think most readers would say that. And R.A. Salvatore wrote the best books. I mean c'mon! He made Drizzt!
Some friends and I once decided, on a whim, to see if our party of seven characters, ranging in levels from 9 through about 11, could defeat Elminster in a mock battle. He totally pwned all of us.
Posted by: Simon | Tuesday, 27 March 2007 at 10:31 AM
And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from iflicting upon you the beating about the ears with a dog-eared copy of "The Crystal Shard" that you so justly deserve for your snob-erific spine worship.
While I never went up agasint Elminster...I've certianly seen my fair share of Drizzt clones running around. I have to consciously remind myself just how cool he was before he got rode into the ground.
Posted by: Moksha Gren | Tuesday, 27 March 2007 at 11:37 AM
Everybody here sound like GREAT candidates for BookCrossing (http://www.bookcrossing.com/). Think about it: books you no longer feel the love for, but feel nostalgic about. Why not release them into the wild to be caught byu another who may pick it up and really appreciate it?
I have to admit that the idea of book karma really speaks to me...plus, the fact that my first "release" was caught in mere hours was pretty cool. Honestly, I have a whole box that don't fit on any of our three big shelves that are destined for wild releases. It's liberating.
Oh, and on the spine issue: Crack it! It's loved, and looks used. That gives it character. Otherwise it's like living in a house with plastic covers on the sofa. You don't strike me as that kind of guy Simon...
Posted by: Tal | Wednesday, 28 March 2007 at 09:04 AM
About an hour ago I followed your link from blurbomat because I loved your comment. I've been roaming around your site ever since. I hope this isn't a blog just for your friends, because I've already added you to my Favorites (along with your wife, who I haven't even read yet but am trusting for a 'counterpoint' perspective. AND... I've also e-mailed my brother a link to "Uncles - the source of more bad influence than all other relatives combined. In short, I have a huge crush on your writing. So if you don't mind a paperback spine cracker with fond memories of Piers Anthony and about 80% of the authors on both your and your wife's reading lists... I'd like to hang out for a while. Nice to meet you! -Jennifer
Posted by: Jennifer | Thursday, 29 March 2007 at 08:30 PM
Now we know who the snieslbe one is here. Great post!
Posted by: Ruvell | Tuesday, 24 May 2011 at 04:47 AM